


Wither on the Bough

by KeanBlade



Series: Color of Vermilion- AU's of the au color in red. [9]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Multi, Senju Tobirama Needs a Hug, Uchiha Madara Has Issues, Uchiha Madara Needs a Hug, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-12-22 14:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21078659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeanBlade/pseuds/KeanBlade
Summary: Tobirama knows that he is the only thing standing in the way of peace and he can't bear the idea that his clan members might die because of Izuna's hatred of him, handy then that pretty much everyone thinks he died after healing the Izuna, that will certainly make it easier to fake his death and get out of the way of Madara and Hashirama's dream (and if he is still sort of dying that only makes it more logical).





	1. leaves fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emilx311](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilx311/gifts).

> An AU of my story 'truly know', while it's not necessary to read that it will probably make more sense if you do. It diverges from Color in Red prime!timeline right at the beginning for Tobirama but Madara has much the same progression as he does in the first few parts of the Red prime!timeline.

Tobirama reeled back as soon as Izuna’s wound closed over, unable to quiet the pained whine that slid past his teeth, he pressed his hand over the blood wetting his clothing, stumbling a little straight into his brother; Hashirama’s sharp (painful, accusing) words stumbled to a stop ("Tobirama! No! Now Madara will never agree to peace! Tobira why couldn’t you have been merciful just this once! You’re al…ways- Tobira?”) but Tobirama couldn’t make himself stay near his brother- was that really what Hashirama thought of him? he shouldn’t be surprised- and flinched back from the hand Hashirama reached out to steady him. He wavered on his feet, panting as black encroached on his vision (please don’t faint) and his knees buckled; but then a warm presence appeared at his side (_spear mint-burning rosemary-lipstick_-**_Touka_**) and slipped her arm under his shoulders (she was shaking, why was she shaking? Tobirama should help her) “Tou-‘a” he slurred and she made a sound of strangled rage, “Calm little cousin, let's get you home now” she said roughly “’zuna?” he asked vision clouding farther around the edges, “No clue don’t care, you need healing and Hashirama is dist- your brother I don’t trust to heal it well.” she said firmly (she had been about to tell him Hashirama was distracted talking to Madara about peace, he knew his brother, but…. somehow it still hurt) which explained why he could feel them moving, he should probably try harder to help. (the return to the compound was a wavering blur that flickered and caught around the edges _like testing the hiraishin the first time_ and he thought he felt something around the edges of his senses _hot steam-cloves-Madara reaching for him_ but he must have been hallucinating as everything disappeared into black)

Madara’s hands are shaking. His whole body is shaking (Tobirama appearing behind Izuna in a sounds of shattering glass, light on a blade, his brother falling, Tobirama dropping to his knees- to finish-?- green blossoming around his hands- gratitude like never before- Izuna anrgerpainfear and twisting, Tobirama jerking as the blade slid home but his hands still glowing, Hashirama not even noticing- does he not pay attention to his little brother as he fights?-, running reaching for the slim, pale figure, Hashirama’s accusing words, the sound of pain as Tobirama staggered back, Izuna well and whole and fine and still angryafraidhate even now, tuning to see Tobirama flinch from his brother blood covering his side- a death for a death?-, the Senju kunoichi catching him and dragging him close hate like venom in her eyes for her clan head- not for Madara-, vanishing into the wood with Tobirama clutched close as she ran for a healer, Hashirama watching and then turning and-) “you want to talk peace now? While your brother is bleeding out?” he whispered, his hands were shaking where they were pressed to Izuna, he stood. Hashirama looked conflicted, “I- I can’t do anything for him right now, but I can help my clan, and he gave me a chance; will you make peace now Madara?” the Senju said. Madara wanted to strangle him, how could he just set aside his brother like that? Just let it go and not follow, not help, not do anything? But it wasn’t his problem now was it, it was between them even if (clever red eyes, green glowing hands even as his blood was spilled, a flinch from touch) he wanted to do something he couldn’t.

“Fine” he said a little harshly, “peace talks, I’ll send a hawk, but we can start.” Izuna made a sharp sound of anger and the look Madara sent him was pure venom, he had no opinion after trying to kill someone that was healing him; Hashirama nodded, joy and worry a confusing mix on his face as he turned to gather the clan to return home. Madara reached- he couldn’t stop himself- infusing chakra in the world with a touch to the ground looking for… (_standing next to a waterfall, the spray coating his face in cool waves and the deep rush of strength near roaring near, the taste of sweet river mint and the faint scent of rosehips, Tobirama?_) brushing against the chakra he thought was Tobirama for only one (_beautiful_) minute before it wavered, shook, fragmented and faded; Madara felt himself go white, no. there- no. he looked up but the Senju were already gone and- _no._

* * *

Tobirama came too to _sea spray-hot metal-damp earth-_Mito reading next to him, staring blankly at the ceiling for a moment as she read next to him, “How long have I been out?” he rasped; he heard Mito put her book down and sigh softly “Only a day little brother,” he forced his head to turn to her, surprised at the affectionate form of address “it was very touch and go for a while and you’re still… your dead switch seal activated” she looked tired as she held up the document she had been reading- one of the treaties he had prepared for the Uchiha- and he was distantly surprised to know that he had apparently died for all intents and purposes (the seal wouldn’t have activated to destroy his most dangerous experiments if his heart hadn’t stopped for a certain length of time.) Mito sighed again, “I’ll go get Hashi, he, Touka, Ayme and I are the only ones that know anything about your condition.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead before gliding out of the room (oh, that… fool.<strike> He had wanted a hug or</strike>-) and he stared at the celling, a thought crawling out of the corners of his mind, maybe it would be for the be best that no one knew about his health… “Tobi!” he winced at his brother’s loud voice, shifting to look at Hashirama and then starting, what in the world- “Hashi? Is everything ok? Did something happen to Madara-sama? My healing on Izuna failed didn’t it, I’m so sorry, I tried to get you your peace bu-“ the older Senju made a strangled noise, freezing at the foot of the bed (Hashirama was sure there was no way that Tobirama thought that Hashirama wouldn’t look this upset over his health, no way he would really assume that Hashirama would only be upset about Madara and peace, no way….. right?)

“I- you almost _died_ Tobi,” he ground out “your still- this could still kill you. And you think that I look upset because of Madara?” Tobirama blinked a little (huh, that explained why he felt so strange then) “So Izuna is ok and Madara-sama is willing to have peace talks?” he asked. Hashirama- Hashirama _hurt_, because when had his brother gotten so single minded about everything, when had he decided that his health mattered this little? (“I hate to tell you this Hashirama-sama” Ayme’s voice was tired “but I don’t know what I can do, if it were just the wound maybe, but he is so…. he’s not in good shape, he’s _exhausted_, every system in his body is literally shutting down because it can’t keep up with the wound on top of the other damage.” “what other damage?” Mito “He’s malnourished and far, _far_ to tired for one, he’s been drawing his chakra down frighteningly close to empty so often that his coils are strained and close to damage, and then there’s this.” his brother covered in small scars “I never thought to ask why all the healing techniques he gives us are so effective from the get go, but-“ a hard sick swallow “he must have been trying them on himself. The damage over the years has built up and he must have some bad chronic pain after so long; Hashirama-sama, his body is just giving up.”) Hashirama swallowed back bile and sat slowly in the chair next to his brother’s bed (how long had it been since he sat with his brother and really _looked_ at him?) “Madara’s fine and so is Izuna as far as I know, though he’s not happy about peace. We are discussing starting peace talks already and will meet before the end of the month I think, you did-“ but Tobirama cut him off “You know how much Madara-sama loves his brother, if Izuna refuses to come to the table you’ll never get anywhere.”

Hashirama looked down at his hands; his brother wasn’t wrong, which was a big problem “We’ll figure something out” he muttered and Tobirama reached out brushing his fingers before his hand lost strength “You don’t have to I already have. Only a few people know I’m alive and Izuna’s biggest problem has always been with me, the ‘Senju freak’, he thinks I’m a mad dog and hate Uchiha and that if I’m around to be insane and heartless I’ll get his clan killed” Hashirama had a bad feeling about this “so if we just pretend I died everything will be better. It won’t even be hard” Hashirama recoiled “No! we’re not going to- _No!_” Tobirama sent him a disapproving glance “We both know you would do anything for peace Hashi” (to tell him he didn’t care about his brother and use a nickname all at once…) “this isn’t a big thing, it will keep the clan safe, save lives and give you your dream. It makes sense.” Hashirama shook his head in horrified denial “_Think_ about it, Izuna will _never_ tolerate me in the village you want to build, I’m already probably dying, why waste an opportunity?” and so it went on for _hours_, Hashirama refusing a little more weakly every time and Tobirama firm and unyielding “Brother, I am leaving one way or another. If you love me and want your dream to mean anything you will never tell anyone that I lived this long.” Hashirama pressed his finger to his eyes but- “very well” he whispered, guilt a lead weight in his gut (what was he doing? God what was he doing). Tobirama slipped out of consciousness as soon as Hashirama agreed and- he looked at his little brother, so thin and pale in the bed; he had forgotten a little what his brother was and meant to him and now he was agreeing to let his brother that was still balanced on the edge of death send himself away and all- all for a peace he couldn’t let go.

* * *

Mito’s face was sharp though she did her best to hide it as she bent over Tobirama on the seal covered plinth like bed, he was fading in about out of consciousness but smiled a little at her anyway; she pressed a kiss to his cool (cold) brow and stood, nodding at her husband to start powering the seals and watching as the lines ran gold and bright with power. Hashirama was pale and sweating, very close to chakra exhaustion when the seals flashed once and the bright cover of shifting light connected at the top; Mito lifted the cover, wicker and mesh, and slid it over her brother-in-law refusing to think about any similarities to a coffin “So he’ll stay alive in there?” Touka asked, her voice startling Mito, “He’ll live and sometimes he can leave it to read and work and maybe move around and shit?” Mito nodded glancing at the seals “It’s his chakra coils that are killing him, this will work as an external generator, if he wakes he can leave it until his chakra runs out, but he’ll have to come back to it when it does.” Touka snorted, her eyes angry and dark “And that is the sort of life he wants?” Mito shot her a sharp glance, “It’s not about what he wants, nothing in this is what he wants, and you know that, but it is what he agreed too and told us to do. Or do you think that his choices aren’t worth respecting?” she snapped, Touka snarled at her and stormed from the room. “Mito…” Hashirama said softly and she deflated looking at the vailed and softly glowing plinth “I know.” She whispered “I know”

It hurt to leave his brother sleeping in the small building tucked on the sea cliff even knowing that it was as well protected as anyone could make it with his living willows twisting together into an all but sentient wall around it and Mito’s most impressive seals ever written into every wall and stone. His brother would be safe here and Hashirama would _know_ if anyone came close or stirred anywhere around it, the sea breeze brought in the scent of salt water and the sound of the waves and they were only a day’s run from the place they had decided to put the village and- “Hashi, we need to leave.” He nodded to Mito but didn’t look away, when he had spent that afternoon arguing with his brother about this plan why had he never tried to tell him how much he loved him? Why had he never told Tobirama how much he _mattered_ not for what he did or could do but for who he was? Why had he never told his little brother he loved him? “Hashirama, you know you have a meeting with the Nara and Madara soon? If you want to make it we need to leave.” He dragged his eyes away and nodded again, turning to walk away (leaving his brother behind for peace, again).

Touka stood for a long time after Mito and Hashirama were gone staring at the small building “You call me when you need me little brother,” she said to the sea breeze, wishing- just wishing.

(Tobirama slept and dreamt of the pain of live, of stars and regret and _hotsteam-cloves-volcanovent-cinnamon-_)

(Madara read notes Mito gave him and couldn’t forget the way it felt to feel Tobirama die)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I write fast and don't edit much- this is a place for me to not have to worry too much about perfection and just enjoy it- so things can be mangled at times. (I've got a wonky brain that can't see symbols as well, so I frequently can't even see mistakes) That's not something that's likely to change any time soon, so if imperfect writing puts you off this probably isn't for you


	2. branches like cracks in the sky

Madara struggles at first (only at first?) with making peace, not because he doesn’t want it (he does, more than anything) but because he finds it hard to look at Hashirama; how can he look at his old friend and trust him when Hashirama’s _brother is dead_ and the other man doesn’t even seem to care? Oh Hashirama avoids Izuna a little and is distant when forced to talk to the younger Uchiha but otherwise it is as if Tobirama never even existed and very few others will speak of him; Touka does but her voice is bitter and brief (all Madara wants is the know the man that died for his brother), the Senju as a whole seem willing to gloss over him even as they use the things he taught them (all but the children, they _miss_ their sensei and love to talk about him), and even fierce, far-eyed Mito only listens when he asks questions, keeping her own counsel (Madara _craves_ more of the younger Senju brother, he has always had a tendency to curiosity and he _owes_ Tobirama his brother's life, he needs to know something of the man he wants to honor) (he learns more and only deepens his thirst with the stories children tell). It’s Mito who finds him months into the village, when much is already laid down from plans in a hand that Madara doesn’t know (it’s not Hashirama’s hand, but the ink is old and that confuses him, who else would have been writing up plans for peace- this hand wrote the first treaty before he even knew he needed it- and the village going back _years_?) and the question on who Senju Tobirama was eats at him a little more every day (_cool strength pounding near with the promise of rest, the taste of rosehips_) egged on by the stories of sad children; her eyes are dark and angry and her mouth a grieving slash when she hands him a sealing scroll and a folder of papers “I’m told you’ve been asking about To-Tobirama. Here, these are his notes, what we could keep after his failsafe seal went off and destroyed the most dangerous of his experiments; if there in anything of him to find you will find it in that, not in his brother.” She turned and left, her back a too straight blade (Mito wanted to weep, the letter from Tobirama- only the third they had received in the ten months since they left him on a sea cliff- had been painful and aching with loneliness for all that Tobirama had tried to hide it in village matters– and Hashirama refused to acknowledge it _"__he’s still alive Mito, that's what matters__")_.

Madara looked at the papers, flicking open the folder and freezing – he, he _knew_ this hand; strong, neat and a little slanted like it was hard to keep up with the mind of the writer, this was, this was _Tobirama’s _hand? It was Tobirama that had planned out the village? That had written reams on the academy they hadn’t been able to build yet, that had written out tax law and clan treaties and brought the village from the ground every bit as much as Madara and Hashirama had. And all of that written by a man that Madara had thought didn’t want peace (a man that had saved Madara’s brother at the cost of his own life), written going back _years_, Tobirama had been working on the village for _years_ and Madara had believed- at least a little- the stories about the cruel Senju Ghost all that time. It… Madara shut the folder and pressed his fingers to the already scarred surface of his desk and just breathed. After a time he stood and took the folder and scroll with him as he slipped though the growing night to the Uchiha sector and the quiet home he shared with his ever more distant brother; he understood a little, Izuna had never wanted peace or thought it could work, he was still waiting for it to fail even after months here and Madara had never looked at him quite the same after – after Tobirama.

He took the paper to his room rather than the office or kitchen, he didn’t want Izuna seeing this, it seemed… wrong somehow, like showing Izuna would be giving a way a secret that wasn’t his to tell; he placed them on the writing table he kept there in his rooms and opened the scroll slowly, it was _filled_ with scraps and notes- some old enough to be written in a childish hand- and along the edges Tobirama had left bits and pieces of himself (comments snarking about clan members he didn’t like, complaints about Hashirama’s ridiculousness, doodles of people he knew- one of Izuna in full flail mode depicting him throwing a tantrum, complete with throwing himself on the ground and screaming-, snippets of stories about the younger brothers he had lost so young and so adored, another doodle of Izuna drawn like a chubby cartoon with an oversized pout, a set of increasingly nasty complaints about Hashirama and a cartoon of him falling in a river, a few doodles of hawks on Uchiha fans- did he know Madara hawked?) pieces of a brilliant caring man scattered over paper old and new. Madara didn’t even realize when his sharingan activated- hadn’t consciously realized how desperate he was to not lose this the more he read- he stared at the almost fully formed plans for a village, _his_ _village_; blueprints with doodles and notes and comments in the margins and all the things that made up the mind of this man Madara had never met. _Would _never meet and the thought hit him like a blow to the gut as the sun slipped over the horizon; he would never talk to Tobirama about the village, Madara would never listen to Tobirama complain about Hashirama, would never see him roll his eyes over the Dyamo’s advisors, never watch his eyes light up as he rambled about new discoveries and ideas, never have the chance to get close enough to sit in the dark over sake until Tobirama talked about the brothers he still missed, Madara would never have any of that, all he would have were stories and old papers and now that he knew what he was missing it would _never_ be enough.

He didn’t go into the tower that day, spending all his time discovering the fragments of Tobirama that he could find (notes on the clan celebrations and living, with a large chunk that was devoted entirely to the way orphans were treated in the clan and how to improve it, observations on the different clan’s traditions and values- and wasn’t that a kicker, that Tobirama had learned so much about the Uchiha and respected them even as his words warned of the danger their eyes posed to their hearts, a danger he wanted to help them with if the fragmented note about the curse of hatred was what he thought it was- and as he read sometimes Madara wondered how Tobirama was a person not a dream) and he breathed in the heartache as he read, soaking up the memory and sparked joy without even realizing it. He laughed at Tobirama’s frustration with a few stubborn koi (he would never have believed that Tobirama would be willing to let himself be pushed around by fish) and tried to sort out the confusing comments in the notes about the healing jutsu (things about chakra response and pain specifics that made it sounds like he had been… but no. there was no way he had been developing them on _himself_, Hashirama would have noticed) and was reluctant to set the papers aside to go into the tower the next day but he wanted to talk to Hashirama about the civilian input after reading Tobirama’s notes made him think of several points. (That night he returned to the fragments of Tobirama and every night after as he learned about the younger Senju brother)

And through this all Hashirama didn’t seem to _care_, there was no burial, no grave to visit (though there must have been one somewhere that Touka visited) and on the anniversary of the day Izuna killed Tobirama there was nothing; Hashirama seemed only a little down and distracted but held no vigil, observed no fast, no moment of silence, _nothing_. Madara had to leave, retreating to his home to get away from his choking anger at his old friend as the other man treated his brother’s death like nothing more than a distant slightly sorrowful memory; he _couldn’t_ make himself stay and watch that, never would have been able to but now that he had some understanding of the kind of man Tobirama was- now that he knew a little of that amazing mind and the deep pain under it when Tobirama mentioned another small slight from his brother in his notes (_“Hashi is angry with me again, I told him something he didn’t want to hear and now he won’t talk to me, will have to make note to better prioritize what I talk to him about and when” “Izuna nearly killed Touka, surely brother can see why now isn’t the time to talk about peace in the clan?” “Madara-sama said no to Hashi again, I told him to try another way than hawks or yelling over a battlefield and he said… well. he wasn’t happy.”_) – there was no way he could be near his former friend. Instead he picked up a scroll of things and headed for the Naka river, not the place he and Hashirama used to meet (_“I don’t think Hashi is ever going to forgive me, what did he think would happen? not like I didn’t know already, Madara-sama has… **lovely** chakra”)_ but another spot farther down river where a short fall and an old tree made a pool that Tobirama mentioned in his papers (_“the water is deeper than it looks and everything gets quiet when you go down far enough”_); once there he settled his scroll on a rock and pulled out incense, light and spicy (_"Father burned incense for mother today, I don't like it, it's so dark and thick it would have made her sneeze"_) not only for Tobirama but for his brothers as well. He didn’t know when Itama and Kawarama had died, but he could recognize them now with their older brother, he liked to think that that was what Tobirama would have wanted.

* * *

Tobirama slept suspended in chakra webs for months, waking long enough to rise and feel the wind on his cheeks, to read the letters from Mito and Touka and his brother (Mito sent a letter every week with information on the village and how his plans were being used, Touka sent letters less predictably and brought them herself frequently- he had felt her chakra near him as he slept and knew she visited him- and brother sent them as he remembered though he was clearly making an effort to do it regularly.) Tobirama responded and reached out with his senses, feeling the shifting power of the village- it had come so far in so little time!- and checking on those he held dear (and if he sometimes buried himself in Madara’s chakra, well, there was no one here to know) and wished that he could do more; but even without his infirmity he would have been a block to what they wanted to accomplish, would have made the Uchiha and other clans- the Aburame feared him deeply for one after he killed the clan heir- uncertain, would have made Izuna refuse to be there at all. No, it was better they way it was; and if the pain and loneliness eat at him? well, he was a shinobi, this was nothing new.

(He slipped under again, Mito’s seals washing over him as they tried to mend the tears in his chakra coils and fill them again ((trying to force him to live)) and he dreamed _he was sleeping on a low bed he didn’t recognize _low, probably Uchiha, they use the traditional look most _soft air blowing in through the window smelling of wet earth and quiet in the deep night, he shifted feeling **hotsteam-cloves** moving closer, a hand smoothed down his bare back in a long caress down his spine making him arch into the touch with a shiver, a weight on the bed near his hip shifted him and he curled closer–)_

_-he blew out a breath at the feel of china pale skin under his hands, marked here and there with scarring but warm and delightful- _

_(-pressing as close as he could and wrapping a hand in long dark hair where it tumbled around him, relishing the laughing, pleased rumble-)_

_-his voice shifted into a moan as the hand in his hair tightened-_

_(-he shifted closer still, twisting until he was all but in-)_

_-his lap and breath fanned across his skin where-_

_(-he shivered as he pressed a feather light kiss to the notch in the collar bone in front of his lips-)_

_-and the hand in his hair tightened as he wrapped his arm around a too slim waist, shuddering “Tobi-_ -rama” whispered Madara fighting back something like tears as he woke from the dream, shuddering with the visceral need it woke in him, whimpering at the deep longing twisting in him (sixteen months in and Madara ached every day for a man that had never been his).

(the was a great and terrible joy to know that had things been different he might have, after all there was all the small rambling comments about how lovely Madara’s chakra was and how comforting- how Tobirama turned to it when upset- and a rather long speculation about the softness of his hair, all the drawings and comments and – Madara wondered)


	3. fading to dead colors

Some days Hashirama felt as though he had been pinned to the ground, stabbed from every angle and held immobile by all his promises (_“if you love me and want your dream to mean anything you will never tell anyone that I lived this long”_) and torn between those he loved (_“If you love me”_ as if to Tobirama that was in question) and all his hopes; so he chose, he chose to honor his brother’s wish (and if that wish meant that he could have his peace Hashirama did his best to wrestle with that truth every day) against the wishes of his wife, against the needs of his cousin, against all that pressure to speak the truth (he had _promised_ his brother, a brother he had failed more than helped, he owed Tobirama this much <strike>but was he making the right choice?</strike> and wouldn’t go against his wishes, <strike>wasn’t it convenient that it gave him what he wanted</strike>). He hoped every day that he had made the right decision even as it drove away those he cared for; Madara unable to understand why Hashirama couldn’t morn, Mito angry that he would allow Tobirama to make this choice, Touka furious that he had let it get to the point that this _was_ a choice. And worst of all, he couldn’t bring himself to morn, not even as it started to tear his world apart, not even when the village started to notice, he _couldn’t _do it; couldn’t bring himself to think even for a minute that Tobirama was gone, that he had lost his last little brother after everything, _couldn’t_ do it (not without losing what little heart he had left).

He shivered alone in the night air, thinking of the brother he had left behind on a cliff balanced on the edge of life (don’t think of that, don’t think of that) almost two years ago; thinking of the letters he got sometimes filled with advice (_always_ the best advice) and innovation, of the information his little brother sent from what his formidable senses- only growing stronger every day, an unexpected side effect- told him about the world around Konoha, information that saved the village _so much_ pain and strife. It was… hard to think about his little brother waking alone in that lonely place, but no one knew when he would wake and Hashirama had duties he couldn’t ignore (things Tobirama wouldn’t want him to ignore) the village needed him and his brother slept away most of his days and – and all of that seemed like a faint excuse in the face of his brother’s loneliness (“_if you love me and want your dream to mean anything you will never tell anyone that I lived this long”_). Perhaps he should have spent more time telling them what Tobirama had done for them, telling them everything his brother had given them (given them everything, his whole heart for their world) but he was just _so_ afraid that he wouldn’t be believed; after all their own clan had never listened to him when he tried to point it out (back before he gave up in the face of Tobirama’s indifference to it) why would the many clans that feared his stern strange brother ever listen? (how could he bare listening to them dismiss his brother, dismiss all that Tobirama did for them? Hashirama _couldn’t_ hear that, not and keep any faith in the peace he gave everything for <strike>even his own brother</strike>)

* * *

Mito watched her husband shiver as he stood in the night, mind far away in a place she couldn’t understand anymore, but…. tomorrow was the anniversary of Tobirama’s “death” and she _had _to try again to convince Hashirama to commemorate it somehow, if only to calm the other clans that wondered about the lack of morning (last year could be forgiven, there had been so much to do, but now… now it would raise eyebrows). “Husband” she called, frowning when Hashirama didn’t shift or react in anyway to her voice and stepping closer “Hashirama” she said a little more gently; the Senju stirred, voice far away when he responded “Yes?” she frowned more deeply, walking to his side “You must hold a vigil for Tobirama this year.” And then she waited for his refusal as he had given it to her every other time she brought it up; but there was nothing, no reaction at all and Mito felt concern stab through her abruptly “Hashirama?” a low hum his only response. She stepped closer, taking his face in her hands and turning him to face her “Where is your mind husband?” she asked, smoothing her fingers under dark eyes still turned away to the sky “Did you know that when we were children father sent Tobirama on twice as many missions as me? He was always so very skilled and much smarter than me, willing to bend in the way I never have been, willing to be beaten like ore on an anvil if it kept father from turning to us. I… I’m ashamed to admit that I stopped noticing at some point, stopped seeing it and I don’t even know when. But ‘he must have been trying them on himself. The damage over the years has built up… his body is just giving up.’ when did I stop looking at my brother? When did I turn into my father?”

Mito swallowed hard, Hashirama’s expression was still far away and his eyes were dark holes to memories she had never known as he continued, no longer talking to her “I think that I must not have wanted to see, I wonder if it was just easier after a while to see the blade father made and forget the boy that stood between me and him, that it was too hard for me to understand him and I just… stopped trying. I have been selfish, egotistical, oblivious to consequences, and so sure of my own righteousness, the only reason those things didn’t get me, and everyone else around me, killed was because of him. And I don’t even know if I know all that I have done, my eyes are cloudy and I don’t know how to see clear – I don’t know how to change the past, but I have to believe that he – that I – that I will have a chance to do better, but all I have is the promise I made him to never speak of his life and even that is failing him in every way that _matters_.” Mito was aware distantly of the salt on her lips and she coaxed her husband to look at her, “When do you grow so far away” she whispered and he laughed rusty “I have walked the path I laid in the ground” he muttered bitterly and she hiccupped a little “But you see your path husband, and that is more than I realized” “Seeing isn’t changing” he told her, pulling back and stepping away (when had they grown so far apart, her and the husband that she had sworn oaths to in front of the gods?) “I can’t change Mito, not the way you would have me change, I do not have the bravery for that – I am not my brother.” She straightened her back and followed him, firm and unyielding “It had been too long since we last walked together and talked, tomorrow we shall stay in and speak of little things again, it is time for us to remember _who we are_ _and who we can be_, not all is lost yet Hashi.” (his eyes welled with tears as he _looked_ at her for the first time in a long time <strike>and she looked back</strike>)

* * *

Izuna hated this day, _hated _it, the first year (the day he had the Ghost’s blood on his hands for the last time, somehow it still surprised him that he bled red) had been the first time Madara had turned away from him, had refused to listen to his words and it had set the tone for much that had come after. The Second year, last year, Madara had disappeared for the entire day and hadn’t quite met Izuna’s eyes ever since – Izuna didn’t _understand_, what had changed? What was so special about the Ghost that Madara would act so, and was it the Ghost that caused it? that was the only thing that Izuna could think of but it seemed so… unlikely that Madara would care about the strange Senju, especially when the man’s own clan seemed so unmoved by his loss. Izuna shifted unhappily in front of his brother’s room, Madara was gone as he had been last year, had left the village and it was Izuna’s chance to understand- at least a little- what had caused the rift between them; Izuna was sure it had something to do with the thing that Madara poured over in his room late into the night but it was also an invasion of his brother’s privacy and… but he needed to know. Needed it desperately. He took a deep breath and leaned forward to unpick the seals (so much stronger than he would have ever used before) as carefully as he could, unwilling to attract notice; the door creaked open slowly and he peaked in carefully looking for other traps before sliding into the room.

It was neat as ever and stacked on his low writing table was piles of paper organized with loving care and tucked into leather covers to keep it safe and collected; Izuna shook himself sharply, and stomped across the room, throwing himself down at the table and flipping open the papers laid out where his brother must have been reading them before he left and –

oh

It was… him, sort of; a strange silly drawing of him pouting and surrounded by grumbling speech bubbles (_“but I don’t want to try something new, Meany!!” “stand still and let me hit you Senju scum!!”_) and there was only one person (other than his brother - whose hand this wasn’t) that would have reason to make this and. what. why? Izuna raised a shaking hand and turned the page.

* * *

Madara brushed his fingers over the soft grass as sleep stole over him, bringing with it the Dreams (he loved them and they haunted him), dreams of pale skin and a half hidden smile, of _he hummed, warmth sliding over him from the lazy tug on his hair and a low rich laugh behind him at his pleased purring _

_(the dark hair twisted around his finger was a rich indulgence, this sight spread before him on the bed full of lazy languor in the low afternoon sun was a treasure he had never thought to have, had never known what it would feel like to see this)_

_he shuddered as there was a rustle behind him and a shift of the bed as a weight settled over his thighs and his hair was brushed aside to give access to his back to the long-fingered hands that swept over his skin in strokes soothing and burning all at once_

_(he licked his lips, breath catching at all the cream sin skin under his hands, marred here and there with scars from when he was a child and still to young to burn down the world as he could now, it was too good an opportunity and he shuddered as he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to the knob of the strong spine)_

_his mouth opened in a soundless gasp at the feel of thin lips on his skin, blowing out a relived breath when the weight shifted and spread out over his back in a comforting sprawl, long fingers slipping into his own with hesitance _hesitance? _that made him tighten his hold, turning he opened his mouth “Why- _-are you afraid?” Madara asked that sky above him, what could the Tobirama of his dreams fear? How could any fragment of his mind not know of the love that suffused his entire self with every breath? He closed his eyes for a long moment, chasing the sweet peace of the dream; but in the light of day (of _this_ day) he couldn’t recapture it and restlessness rose in him, he couldn’t stay here and pace, he wanted this place to be peaceful. He would go back to the village and maybe burying himself in Tobirama’s words (words long since burned into his mind with the sharingan to last long after the paper fell to pieces) and the feel of the paper would calm him enough to focus on the work of the village again, it was all he could do for Tobirama now.

The run to Konoha was fast and easy- well known at this point- and he slipped into his home without much minding his surroundings until he grew close to the door and then – there was someone. Izuna. Madara tore into the room, fury rising in him like a wave, like a forest fire (how dare he, how-) “-dare you!” he hissed, aching to throw his brother across the room but unwilling to risk the paper in Izuna’s hands (what if he hadn’t dreamed of Tobirama, would he have come back after Izuna was already gone and never know his brother’s violation of Madara’s privacy?). Izuna was staring at him with wet, large eyes “What – what is this?” he asked in a shaking voice and Madara snarled “Nothing to do with you, not after the blood on your hands” his voice was _shaking_ from anger as Izuna set down the paper with unsteady hands “I didn’t – I didn’t – I, wish, I – _Madara_” “_Out. No. **Out.**_**” ** Madara’s voice was empty, as cold as ice in his snarling fury (how dare he? how DARE he?!) and Izuna shoved away form the desk, stumbling away on shaking legs. Madara turned to the papers, running his fingers over them obsessively in the desperate need to make sure they were all there, all _safe_; they were, but it hardly slowed the mad beat of his heart and he collected them, tucking all into the storage scroll Mito had given them to him in before flashing from the house (he couldn’t stay there, he couldn’t). 


	4. brittle things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this got longer and sadder than I realized it was going too...

He came to a stop on the edge of the village, wavering and uncertain, “Madara” Touka’s voice startled him out of his daze and he turned to her vibrating with stress, “Where is he buried?” he asked, voice thready and high with strain. Touka’s eyebrows went up in surprise and she looked at him closely “Who?” she asked slowly, and he forced himself not to shake his head franticly, mind jumping sideways “Why is he afraid of me? I don’t understand” (worry slithered through Touka, she had watched Madara for her little brother’s sake and had seen how he held Tobirama dearer with every day, but she had never know what to do with it; had never known it was this deep, perhaps…) Touka stepped forward, catching Madara by the shoulders and turning him to face her, forcing him to look at her “Breath Madara, _breath_, with me, come on- there, that’s it. calm. Now, what do you mean?” as she coaxed him out of the hysteria that clung to him. He shuddered, sagging as if exhausted suddenly, “I- can you tell me where he is buried? I want to pay my respects.” Touka frowned a little, drawing back and folding her arms “That’s not all you said” she pointed out, vaguely amused by the way he squirmed a little on the spot “I dream of him sometimes” he muttered, embarrassed “they are… _vivid_. And he seems, I don’t know afraid? Hesitant? But I don’t understand, it’s my dream, he should know that he has nothing to fear when he is a dream, so I don’t understand…” he tailed off and Touka shifted back on her heels.

This was, unexpected. Once upon a time she might have dismissed that, but she knew how much Tobirama leaned on Madara’s chakra and time in Mito’s generator had only seemed to strip away all the walls around his senses that Tobirama had built; so now she couldn’t help but wonder… “Does he have tattoos?” she asked abruptly and Madara started a little, frowning in confusion, “What-? never mind, yeah” he was blushing, Touka wanted to coo over him “um, on his shoulders and hips, a few lines on the edges on the bones over scars” Touka gaped, that was “Come with me” she said sharply, turning to march to her home with Madara in tow (how had he known that about Tobirama’s tattoos?). She snapped the door open and dragged Madara after her, kicking off her sandals absently on the way in before depositing her visitor at her table as she went to the stove to make tea “Now” she said sternly as it steeped, breaking the confused silence (god his eyes were huge and so _sad_, she wanted to bundle him up in a blanket and give him a cookie) “explain these dreams to me. No! I don’t need details, just explain” (and now he was blushing again, Tobirama had chosen well, such a cutie!) He shifted uncomfortably and didn’t look her in the eyes as he spoke “I – they started about a year ago, I think the first one was on the – the anniversary of his death, and ever since then I have dreams, at least once a week, sometimes twice though those are always shorter, and Tobirama is in them. He never says anything, and if I try to I wake up, but he seems… sad, lonely, hesitant, and he – he’s needy I guess, lonely and uncertain. It doesn’t make sense, if he’s a figment of my mind why would he ever be sad, why would I ever want him to be sad!?” his voice rose at the end, hysteria edging it again and Touka sat back with a hidden smirk. Well then. This changed things.

She touched his hand “I don’t think you would want him sad, but that is very much how he would have reacted if he was given a chance to spend time with you. Little Tobi was very much enamored of you” she told him perhaps a little cruelly (she had never claimed to be kind), watching as his eyes glowed with joy and then faded to a washed out ache as he remembered that Tobirama was ‘dead’ “come on, lets go spar, I think your probably tired enough to not annihilate me today.” She stood and dragged him up with her, abandoning their unfinished tea as plans unspooled in her head; there was no way she was going to let this chance slip away. “So” she asked as they stretched “those eyes of yours take a lot of chakra, it ever led to coil damage?” he nodded distractedly (good) “what does your clan do when that happens, they have a way to support another’s charka?” (she forced herself not to hold her breath) Madara frowned thoughtfully “I don’t think we have ever had a case quite like that, but we might be able to do something if someone close the wounded shinobi had enough chakra, it’s theoretically possible to create a tether and feed chakra down it. Though that might only work in a case of Centering.” Touka cocked her head “Centering?” Madara hummed thoughtfully, fully distracted now “A sharingan thing, sometimes an Uchiha will meet someone and look them in the eyes, and if they are the right person and if that person is looking back it – they can see each-others _souls_, or something very like that; it is the most sacred bond and Uchiha can have. The chakra of the Uchiha’s eyes gets entangled in another person’s chakra and it becomes impossible for them to access their Sharingan without feeling the tug of their Center, the death of a Center _always _drives the Uchiha insane. Always.”

Touka frowned a little, so, not a certain thing but – she glanced at Madara, thought about the way his eyes looked and the dreams she was almost certain were shared (she knew enough theory to suspect that Tobirama had created a- a tether between them with repeated contact, chakra was soul stuff after all as Tobirama often told her), maybe not certain but damn close; definitely good enough for her to gamble on. She smirked and turned to the tired man, beckoning him into the spar and setting aside her planning, tired and distraught or no Uchiha Madara was an intimidating foe and she would not underestimate him.

* * *

Next morning Touka walking into her cousin’s office with more vigor than she had possessed in a long time, smirking at a tired looking Hashirama and slamming her hands on his desk “Have you noticed that you are about to loose Madara?” she asked him sweetly, biting back a grin at his abrupt worry “What?!” he asked and she leaned back, smirk widening “SO you haven’t” “Madara and I aren’t on the best terms anymore-“ “and why is that?” she asked quick as a viper “he can’t forgive me for not morning my brother.” He said, (he looked… old) she shook her head firmly, pleased at his focus on her “Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ relishing his look of confusion “Or maybe at first but now? How the fuck you missed your best friend falling in love with your little brother I don’t know.” Hashirama’s face went white “What?” he asked through numb lips, echoed by Mito where she had just opened the door. And just like that the whole story came out, Touka was glad to know how Madara had managed to learn so much about Tobirama (she had thought that was what had happened but hadn’t been sure) and took a mean joy from watching Hashirama’s face when she told him that his little brother had been in love with Madara for _years_ and he had never noticed (never seen the way Tobirama’s eyes followed Madara when they could, never noticed the way his eyes went distant when he was touching the Uchiha’s chakra to ground himself, never noticed how he _always _knew where Madara was). “And, there might be a way for Madara to support Tobirama’s chakra and get him out of that fucking seal net” She said intently, watching Hashirama closely, “they can have a happy ending cousin. You can give your brother a happy ending if you are willing to _try_.”

Hashirama stared at her, conflict painted across his face; Mito slipped around the desk and stood at his shoulder, cupping his jaw with her slender hand “Hashi, you wanted a chance to do better, this is your chance.” He looked at her with tormented eyes “He asked me not to speak of it if I loved him, I _can’t _break my word to him, not after everything.” The Senju whispered. Touka grinned fiercely “Good thing you don’t need to.” They looked at her, hope beginning to dawn on Hashirama’s face as he took in her fierce eyes “Give him a mission, he and Tobirama are sharing dreams, if you give him a mission in the right direction he will find his way to Tobirama and you need not break your word.” Hashirama swallowed, hesitated “If we’re wrong-“ Touka snorted “What do you have to lose? Tobirama will still be trapped in chakra sleep and Madara falling into a breakdown, you are already losing the Uchiha, you didn’t see him yesterday. Hashirama this is the only way you will be able to save him, save _them_.” Mito leaned forward, looking in her husband’s eyes “You wanted to be brave for your brother, now is time” she brushed his hair out of his eyes “now husband.” He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and firming his shoulders “I’ll give it to him today.” Touka could have crowed with her glee, she just knew this was going to work.

* * *

Izuna knew the moment he followed his brother (ignoring him completely, he had turned his face away with Izuna’s approach and the younger hadn’t had the bravery to push – wanted to say _“sorry, I’m so sorry, so, so, so, sorry”_ useless words) into the Hokage’s office that it was going to be an interesting day; Hashirama was accompanied by Mito and Touka, Mito at his shoulder and Touka leaning against the wall near the window with a victorious grin, but there was no chance to ask about the day’s work when another person blew into the room. Senju Roko was a man Izuna _detested_, he was an ass of the highest degree, prideful and arrogant but frustratingly free of any major faults that Izuna could hate him for but Izuna had heard the rumors that the man spoke about the Ghos- about Tobirama and though he hadn’t cared before _now_… well. He was followed by a few others that collected at the door but didn’t enter, intimidated by the collection of frightening shinobi in the office (all the most fearsome of their generation in one room); he smirked around the room smugly, swaggering forward to plant a sheaf of paper on Hashirama’s desk “Plans for the academy” he said with the look of a man expecting praise. Madara’s spine wen steal and Izuna thought about (_“the greatest hurdle at first will be integrating clan training into the academy, but the long term problem will be insuring that the unaffiliated children do not get left behind in favor of their more privileged peers”_) Tobirama’s sure hand as he wrote out the plans for the academy- so clearly his dearest project- plans that were already being used to lay a ground work.

“We already _have _plans” snarled Madara, something bloody glinting in his gaze “Everyone knows those can’t be any good, the children said that Tobirama made them” said the idiot, a sneer curling his lips around the albino’s name (Izuna remembered rumors-) “the only good thing is that he’s not here to ruin everything.” The quiet that settled over the office after that pronouncement was deep and cold, Izuna flinched from the mad fury in his brother’s eyes but it was Hashirama who spoke first “What did you say?” he asked slowly, Roko cocked his hip “Everyone knows Tobirama didn’t want peace, he liked killing things far to much to want this.” Izuna darted forward, catching his brother by the sleeve, trying to stop him from killing the Senju. Hashirama spoke again before Madara could shake Izuna off, and he had never heard the Senju head sound like this, like the oaks when they swayed in a hurricane wind; “That is my _little brother_ you are talking about, my little brother who gave everything for this village and peace. Or have your forgotten that he healed Izuna to give this a chance? Are you such a fool as to think that _I _wrote tax law? That we had treaties ready the next day because of one of us?” anger was a thick fog in the room, Hashirama and Madara together bringing Roko and the watching shinobi to their knees (Izuna kept his feet only with the help on the wall, Mito was braced on the chair and Touka on the windowsill) “Tobirama was a better man than any of you” Madara hissed “he was willing to plan for peace and fight a war for life all at the same time, even as it tore him apart, you can lay no such claim, _vermin_.” “My brother was the reason we have this, the reason no children have died in the field in two years, the reason you are alive given how shit you are in battle, _Tobirama_ is the only reason we have this.” Hashirama said before Madara took over again “He is the heart of this place and if you **ever** insult him again, you will die for it” and there was doubting the promise, not when Madara looked half mad with anger.

Roko spluttered on the floor, all but insensate from fear; Izuna staggered forward and dragged the shinobi off the ground, throwing him out of the office into the watching shinobi and slamming the door, desperate to get that _look_ out of his brother’s eyes. But though Hashirama’s chakra receded with the man gone Madara’s only grew, swamping the room in super-heated eddies, sharingan spinning into the mangekyō; Izuna whimpered and dropped, unable to keep his feet followed by Touka and then Mito a moment later “Madara” Hashirama croaked, strain on even his face at the twisting power “_Madara_” but the other man didn’t respond, eyes fixed on the door. Izuna’s vision was fading going black around the edges as he gasped for air (why could he smell cloves?) until

mistmintdeeproarwater

Izuna rolled on to his stomach, retching and gasping for sweet, sweet air as his brother’s chakra receded.

* * *

Madara was grateful to Touka for the spar, grateful to have company that understood what it was like to miss Tobirama like the breath in their lungs, grateful that she allowed him to stay in her home that night rather than send him to the house he had fled from, grateful for (“Little Tobi was very much enamored of you”) the space she gave him; so he forced himself to focus on his breathing to try and coax sleep to him, it wouldn’t do to keep Touka awake after her kindness. _He hooked his chin over a pale shoulder, missing the red lines on white skin hidden as they were under cloth, and wrapped his arms around the slender shape, holding tightly and trying to sooth the hitching breaths; aching for his inability to do anything else _he mustn’t speak or he would wake and Tobirama would weep alone_ humming deep in his throat and pressing light soothing kisses to the elegant neck_

_(he tried to force the tears down, tried to bite back the sobs, ashamed even in dreams to be so weak, the arms around him tightened and a soft croon made the chest behind him vibrate, and somehow he only cried harder, losing all control)_

_he couldn’t do this like this, he turned the pale form, wrapped in one of his dark robes- to see **his** clothing worn thus… ah, but it was lovely- and cupped his hands under that vulpine face, dropping kisses on the red slashes there_

_(the soft touch shivered through him and he whimpered, **aching** and desperate, he was pulled forward and down, cuddled into a warm lap and tucked close)_

_there was nothing more he could do, just tuck close and cover the twining white weight as fully as he could, touching and weighing down and holding_

_(it was everything he wanted and he felt greedy, needy and panting, wanting as he had never known he could want, just this, just closeness, just touch)_

_he felt the dream fading and clung, forcing it to continue to linger, feeling strong hands knot in his clothing pleadingly “no please, don’t leave me” “I- _-wont” Madara rolled from the bed, staggering to the bathroom as nausea tore though him, the first time he heard Tobirama speak to him and it was to beg him not to leave (and then he _left_). Oh. He thought distantly pressing his face to the cool porcelain, this is what madness feels like.

The walk home to change and head into the tower was vague and far away, it seemed to him to be happening on the other side of a thick pane of glass for all that he couldn’t bring himself to look at his brother. He would have cared about the group in the office when they arrived but then there was the man and all Madara could feel was **hate. The world wavered, heat mirage, _please, don’t leave me_, hate, mistwaterfallmintrosehips fading, make the hurt stop, sulfur and anger and viscus rage, _please, don’t leave me_, little Tobi enamored of you, the best, _please, don’t leave me_, HATE – **mistwaterrosehips, fingers in his hair breath on his neck, the haze over the world lifted and he dragged his chakra inside, under control, ignoring the panting shivering shinobi on the floor.

(Hashirama wanted to be sick, Touka was right. Touka was so right)

Hashirama cleared his throat, helping Mito off the floor and watching as Izuna panted on the floor and Touka dragged herself to her feet, white faced “Madara, I have a mission for you” he looked at his old friend and the far away empty look in dark eyes “I have, I have something very dear to me that I need you to try and bring back.” nothing “It is more precious than anything and will need to be treated with great care and protected fiercely, you I hope will have enough chakra to keep it safe” Mito’s look told him he was doing this poorly, oh well, he was making it up on the fly and Madara didn’t seem to care “just… be careful” Madara nodded without looking away from the window “Where am I going?” (Hashirama watched Madara slip out the window and _hoped_)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, smut or not? It could go either way at this point
> 
> Also, didn't fit in the story but Roko hates Tobirama after he tried and failed to seduce Tobirama. He was dropped before he got the albino in bed because Tobirama heard that Roko was bragging about fucking the 'freak'.


	5. bark like blood

Madara ran, faster and faster and faster, trying to outpace the (_please, don’t leave me_) twisting emotion in his gut (trying to outrun heartbreak) and focusing on the mission- poorly defined though it was- (_please, don’t leave me_) he ran and ran and ran towards the sea; it was going to take about a day Hashirama had told him but at the pace he was running he might be able to get there sooner and – huh? There was something – he paused, balancing on a tree branch trying to figure out what it was that had caught his attention, there was… a twisting on the edge of his senses, like a sound he couldn’t quite hear or, he dropped to the ground pressing his fingers to the ground and sending his chakra out in a sharp _ping_ searching for. He stiffened spine going tight, that couldn’t be (_mintrestwaterstrength_), it _couldn’t_ –

If he had been running before now he was _flying_, trees flashing past in a blur until he burst out on the edge of a cliff over the sea; there was a grove of willows twisted together around something he couldn’t quite see, he peered at them- there was no way that was a natural shape- and dropped placing his fingers to the ground again reaching – he staggered forward, collapsing to his hands and knees, he _knew _ that chakra; Mito and Hashirama and in the middle “_Tobirama_” he whimpered (_living _chakra, **_living_**) shuddering as it swam though him. He pressed his forehead to the ground, prostate in front of an impossible miracle, sobbing out a sharp noise “_Tobirama_” and (_please, don’t leave me_) the younger man’s voice in his dream flashed through his mind, pleading and exhausted and _begging_; he launched himself to his feet, barely noticing as fire flashed from his fingers, incinerating the trees in an instant to nothing but ash and smoke. The seals fell before him and the door small shrine like building was almost torn off in his desperation to get inside; there was a strange seal covered plinth in the center, covered in a wicker and chakra contraption and Madara forced himself to go slowly, he couldn’t risk hurting Tobirama by going too fast and disturbing something he didn’t understand. He stepped closer, examining the seals and chakra flow, trying to see – huh, odd, but it almost… _“Coil damage.. what does your clan do when that happens, they have a way to support another’s charka?”_ Touka had said that, Touka had been smirking in the office, Touka hadn’t told him where Tobirama was buried, Touka left sometimes for a few days, Touka _knew_; and it fit, it made sense of what he was seeing so, he should be able…

Madara walked forward again, sliding his hands under the wicker cover and shifting it off as carefully as he could, not letting himself look down and become distracted until it was all the way off and then – it was Tobirama. _Tobirama_. He was pale and wan, and he looked exactly as he had in Madara’s dreams, down to the tattoos he could curving over pale shoulders where the thick robe Tobirama wore had gaped open (so that was why Touka had asked about them, had – was there any way they had been _sharing _dreams?); he reached out with shaking fingers, pressing them to the artery and falling forward over the bier at the feel of the slow (too slow) pulse under his fingers. Alive. _Alive. _ Tobirama was **_alive_**, Madara’s breath slipped out of him on a sob and he pressed his forehead to the sleeping Senju’s sternum, trying to catch his breath (_please, don’t leave me_); how, how could, it was clear that the seals were the only thing keeping Tobirama alive long term- chakra coil damage was an extremely dangerous thing- which must have been why Touka asked if he knew anyway to help support someone with damage to them. So how could Madara wake him safely; he drew back, forcing himself to focus and ignoring the part of him that cried out at the separation, it took careful examination to check the chakra levels- low, worryingly low, but not dangerous at the moment- and make sure they were high enough to wake the other man.

He shivered, there was no way he wanted to touch Tobirama if he was unwilling but the _dreams_, he was almost certain that they were shared somehow (“_why is he afraid in my dreams?”_) and if so, well, Tobirama had never once indicated he didn’t want Madara’s touch, had leaned into it, soaked it up like a touch starved (and wasn’t that worrying) cat; always pressing close and asking for more as best he could with no words. So Madara leaned closer, combing white hair out of the dear face and his breath catching again (**_alive_**) before he pressed his lips to the thin ones below him. For a moment there was nothing and Madara felt as though his whole world was going to come apart and the – and **then** – Tobirama whimpered shifting and pressing close, clumsy lips trying to fit closer to Madara’s and one shaking hand catching in dark hair where it made a dim curtain around them. Madara collapsed closer, the hand not braced on the bier to keep him upright tightening in white moonlight hair as he slipped their lips together, easily taking control of the kiss and not quite able to stop himself from licking out at the breathy whine his attentions got him; Tobirama gasped and Madara licked in, shuddering as he tasted his dear one for the first time (better than anything he had ever imagined). It took every bit of control he possessed to pull back, sharingan spinning to life the second he got a look at the albino; all spit slick lips and dazed pleasure, a faint flush on those pale cheeks with Madara’s hand tangled in his lovely hair; gods he _never_ wanted to forget this image, this moment (red eyes like jewels and. **oh.** Oh. You. You are my _everything_, my Center, my world).

* * *

Tobirama was confused, one moment he was sleeping, senses and mind sliding out across Fire Country (Madara was upset, why was he upset?) barely even aware of the passage of time (a dream, another dream of Madara, begging him not to go, not to leave Tobirama alone in his cold cocoon) until he felt the spike of **hate** from Madara (Hashirama was upset too, what..?) and pushed out farther than he ever had, trying desperately to catch the other man’s cakra (soul) and calm the magma wrath boiling inside him (it worked, but Tobirama was exhausted, falling back into his body and loosing track out the outside world entirely until – there was warmth near him, touching his neck and on his chest (it had been so long since Tobirama was warm last) and he wanted to move, to draw it close to _cling_ too it. The warmth shifted, the familiar scent of cloves slipping over him and, oh, _oh!_ Tobirama had never felt anything like this and he shoved the dark clinging exhaustion away, rising up to press against the warmth – the _lips_ pressed to his because (he must be dreaming) there was no way that this could be anyone other than _Madara_, not now he could feel the chakra. So he tried to kiss back (if it was a dream he wanted to take full advantage of it), too aware of his own inexperience as a whimper slipped out and his weak hand tangled in dark hair; Madara didn’t seem to mind if his pleased groan was anything to go by and his hand tightened in Tobirama’s hair. Madara took control of the kiss, slanting their lips together and showing Tobirama the right way as the dazed younger man tried to follow his lead, whining with the need gathering in his chest, gasping and then melting as Madara licked at his bottom lip (oh. This was why people did this. he had had no idea…) and then in when Tobirama’s mouth opened. It was like fire in his veins as Madara’s tongue swept in, greedy and consuming and _wanting_, as if Tobirama was a longed for treat to be savored and enjoyed (_Tobirama_ of all people).

The older man pulled away and Tobirama sucked in gasping breaths, mind still subsumed under a haze of warmth and pleasure, dizzy with the fire in his veins and on the edge of begging for more; he felt the sharingan activate but hardly cared, still struggling to think after the sudden shock to his system. Madara made a strangled noise and shifted closer again, pressing another kiss to Tobirama’s slack lips and then slipping sideways before the younger man could respond; kissing over his cheek and the edge of his jaw (he barely noticed when the Uchiha shifted to sit on the bier, his hip radiating heat into Tobirama’s cold side), lips on his neck, lingering over his racing pulse before biting gently and then again harder when Tobirama arched with a shocked gasp, eyes he hadn’t noticed shutting flying open at the feeling. There was teeth now as Madara set about sucking and biting at his pulse (that was going to leave a mark, he realized distinctly), shuddering as his breath hitched and shook against Tobirama’s skin; the albino shifted, trying to think long enough to drag a weak hand up and curl it around the back of his neck, fingers tangled in long hair (Madara had always liked that before in Tobirama’s dreams) as he did so. Madara’s mouth went still against skin aching and buzzing under his attention and a sob ripped out of his lungs; confused Tobirama tugged him closer as best he could with arms still shivery from chakra exhaustion, gently coaxing the older man over him to tuck across his chest with his face in Tobirama’s tingling neck. Tobirama shifted beneath him, twisting closer and around and tucking his knees up to cradle the Uchiha as best he could; one of Madara’s arms locked tight over Tobirama’s shoulder and the other hand pressed hard to his chest over his heart (feeling his heartbeat?), and Tobirama hummed gently, trying to sooth the increasingly distraught man (why was he so upset?)

It took a long time for Madara’s breathing to calm though he hold didn’t lighten at all and as he waited Tobirama’s mind came on line again (a little, the feeling of being touched, of being touched _at all_ after so long was like a drug in his veins and he couldn’t force his mind to focus well on anything else, not when it was _Madara _touching him), as he surfaced from the seal sleep confusion stole over him; he was… he was _fairly_ sure this was Madara’s chakra, fairly sure that he couldn’t have dreamed up something this realistic – he never had before. In which case… in which case this _was_ Madara, a Madara who seemed undone by him, seemed all but hysterical and kissed him (kissed _him_) like he wanted to pull Tobirama close and never let go, and Tobirama just couldn’t understand. Careful not to disturb the slowly calming man wrapped around him he shifted his fingers, whispering under his breath “kai”, trying to release the genjutsu the Uchiha must be under; why else could he be acting the way he was? Madara must have heard him, tucking impossibly closer, his voice when he spoke a deep rumble against Tobirama’s chest that made the younger man’s mouth drop open (oh. Oh he had a _thing _for that didn’t he) “I’m not under a genjutsu” he said and Tobirama scrambled to force his mind to focus “Why-?” he asked wanting to wince at the faint slurring; Madara bit gently at the livid mark raising on Tobirama’s skin (with his skin every little thing showed up and – oh. That was a thing too wasn’t it, the idea of wearing Madara’s marks…) making the younger man shiver, “Did you dream while you slept?” he asked and Tobirama frowned, “I – I did, what-?” Madara kissed up to his ear, it was getting hard to think again “Did you dream of me?”

Tobirama whined and struggled to think “I – _yes_”, Madara hummed, deep and pleased “Did you dream of me holding you, of my hands on your skin, of wearing my robe, as asking me to stay with you?” and Tobirama’s hand clenched in dark hair as those words penetrated “I did” he whispered; Madara nipped at the bolt of his jaw before speaking “And I dreamed of you. You have tattoos on your shoulders and hips and the last dream we shared you-“ his deep voice broke “-you begged me not to leave you.” “Shared dreams” Tobirama breathed out and Madara hummed against his skin. Tobirama gaped at the ceiling, shared dreams, shared dreams for a _year_, dreams where Madara seemed to care for him; where the older man held him close and touched him and comforted him and – Tobirama would have been ashamed of the sound that slipped past his lips if he had been able to think past the fire racing through him as he dragged at Madara’s clothing with desperate fingers, yanking at the older man as he tried to pull him closer, shuddering when he got with the program and twisted, shifting until he could press Tobirama’s legs apart and settle between them.

* * *

Tobirama keened as Madara rested his weight on the younger man, head snapping back and back arching to press him closer to Madara as the Uchiha’s eyes rolled back at the explosion of arousal; he had never _dreamed_ – Madara wasn’t inexperienced, but he could honestly say he had _never_ felt anything like this before, it was unlike anything he had ever imagined and he – Tobirama gasped “_Madara_” and yanked firmly at Madara’s hair, shooting fire down the older man’s spine and he reacted before he thought; lunging down to bite _hard_ at the collarbone so prettily displayed in front of him. Tobirama _writhed_ and Madara snarled, rocking his hip down hard and reveling in the reciprocal heat; he shoved up on one arm, glad for his still spinning sharingan as he took in his lover, he looked like a god spread out below Madara, eyes glazed and warm, mouth open and panting with a pale flush on his cheek and chest, the robe gaping open to his waist where his writhing had disturbed it, only barely hiding what Madara wanted. Mouth watering the Uchiha slid his free hand down the lean shape (too thin, Madara would fix that), rubbing his thumb over one pink nipple and groaning at the sound the friction got him- very nearly a scream- before dragging his palm down farther wishing he had thought the remove he glove first. He tugged at the loose sash of the robe and panted as it slipped free and let him see his prize; a pretty, _pretty_ cock already weeping for Madara’s touch surrounded by more moonlight hair, he shuddered, all but drooling at the thought of leaning down and _tasting_, of licking and sucking and seeing how long it would take to make Tobirama _scream_ for him (not long he thought, not when he responded so well already).

It would have to wait he told himself, fingers rubbing around the base as Tobirama moaned breathily, flush deepening when he saw where Madara’s greedy eyes were fixed; glove, off, Madara needed it _off_ and tore at it with his teeth immediately wrapping his hand around that lovely prize, dragging his hand up as Tobirama sobbed, bucking into the pressure. He released the albino and pulled his hand up, licking pre-cum off and a deep hum as he relished the taste (Tobirama didn’t even notice his mouth falling open as he watched, burning); he wanted – but there was nothing to use as slick unless “Darling, do you – are you – I want to be _in you_-“ he panted and Tobirama’s eyes blew wide “_Yes_” he breathed, shaking hands jerking up to yank at Madara’s clothing, trying to get it off his as fast as he could; Madara helped him get his shirt off before switching focus to one of his thigh pouches, scrambling for the muscle cream every shinobi carried (for muscles overtaxed by long runs, it was thick and smooth and relaxed muscles gently, perfect for this) only to stumble as wet heat engulfed his nipple and hands dragged across his skin, sweeping down planes of muscle as Tobirama licked at every inch of skin he could get to sitting up against Madara and tugging at his pants.

Madara’s brain whited out (he - holy gods of fire – the flash of pink tongue as he lapped at Madara’s skin and the intent look in his eyes – Madara _whimpered_), before he ducked down to kiss his way into his lover’s mouth again, dragging the hungry noises the albino was making out to relish on his tongue like sweet summer honey. He twisted grabbing for his abandoned shirt and over robe as he coaxed Tobirama to lie down again, refusing to stop kissing on his way down; as soon as he was laid out Madara slid and arm under his hips and raised them enough the shove the fabric underneath his lover (he hadn’t missed Tobirama’s exhaustion, the other man needed all the support Madara could give him), sitting back a little and dragging sharingan eyes down Tobirama’s shape (he couldn’t possibly deserve this) arousal pounding through him (he wasn’t going to let it go, not ever). His hands shook as he scrambled at the flat jar, distracted with bending down to bite at one pale thigh and suck a dark mark at the join of groin and leg; Tobirama whimpered, one hand fisting in Madara’s hair and making the Uchiha’s mouth drop open in a soundless moan at the feeling, he twisted biting another mark just above the start of white hair and then another gentler one above the base of that pretty cock. His fingers slid into the thick cream and he scooped some up, sucking at one pale thigh and then the other (when Tobirama rose and dressed his cock would brush against those, every shift and movement throughout the day he would feel his cock on Madara’s claim) as he slipped his fingers down and over that wonderful hole as Tobirama whimpered, hands convulsing but otherwise limp with pleasure; he rubbed at it, abandoning his biting as his mind swam, and he slipped the tip of one finger inside.

Warm. And tight. And Tobirama made a sound like he had been electrocuted, back arching mouth open; Madara leaned over “That- _ah_\- al-_god_-right?” he panted, Tobirama whimpered again “_never- mad-ar-ra, first”_ Madara’s eyes slipped shut as he shuddered (_never? Sweet lady fortune, **never**?_) and pressed his finger farther in, rubbing at fluttering walls; Tobirama keened and grasped at Madara’s hair. The Uchiha kissed the pliant lips beneath him as he slipped a second finger in, relishing shattered sounds he dragged from his lover; but there was only so long he could resist and he dragged himself away from that tempting mouth just was he slid a third finger in, greedy to _see_ where his fingers were sliding into his pale lover, greedy – he whimpered, transfixed at the sight of his fingers sliding into the fluttering hole, watching the way Tobirama’s body clung to him on every stroke and his hips jerked weakly (if he had the energy Madara had no doubt that Tobirama would be riding his fingers, but as it was he was to tired to do anything but moan his lover's name and let Madara take care of him, a thought that filled the Uchiha with a rush of warmth). He crooked his fingers and Tobirama _screamed_¸ back arching like a bow as his voice bounced around the room, another push in and out and Madara dragged his fingers over that spot again and another scream (at some point they would do this again and Madara would do this again, would hold him here screaming until his voice gave out, but he didn’t want to hurt his lover and Tobirama couldn’t take that now).

He tugged his fingers out, smoothing his hand up and down the gasping ribs and soothing Tobirama gently as the albino whimpered at the loss before lining himself up and _slowly, gently_, sliding inside. His mind went white, transfixed by the sight of his cock sliding into Tobirama’s body, sharingan memorizing it for the rest of his life as he rocked in and Tobirama gasped and gently pulled back till nothing but the head was inside before easing his way in again; he didn’t even realize he was talking (“beautiful, taking me so well, look like nothing I’ve ever seen, doing so well, _perfect,_ never been like this, taking me _so well_”) until Tobirama interrupted him, tugging weakly at his hair with a desperate look in his wet eyes. Madara dropped forward immediately, folding over the slim form and pressing kisses all over that dear face, holding himself still only by grace of his desperate need to be careful for his lover; “yes, darling, I’m sorry, what” he panted and Tobirama turned his lips to Madara’s ear “_need you close, please dara”_ he whispered and Madara shuddered hearing the thin keen slip past Tobirama’s lips at the movement (had he gone two years without touch, surely not, there was no way… right?). The Uchiha slipped his arm under the slender waist and pressed close as he could, giving up long, strong thrusts in favor of deep, short movements that never drew him to far away, pressing kisses to china pale skin as best he could in the hot haze that had descended over him. Wetness against his lips told him Tobirama was crying but his face was transfixed in extasy, all control gone as he clung to Madara (to his hair and back with weak hands, to his _cock_ with fluttering muscles) and it wasn’t a surprise when with a whisper in his ear (_“love you”_) Tobirama fell over the edge with an almost silent wail; Madara shuddered gasping felt warmth on his belly, saw Tobirama’s eyes fluttered, thrust once, twice, and followed, his own near scream echoing as he lost sense of everything but them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked why I write anything even a little smutty when I'm asexual (not sex-repulsed though, I'm fine with other peopled doing it as long as they don't try to get me involved- yegh) and why I didn't write realistic sex? (well I wouldn't know what that's like now would I?) Well, why WOULD I write realistic sex? It's all.. not my thing. But sex like this isn't about "real life sex" it's about emotion getting so overwhelming for the characters that they have to find an outlet, like when people start singing in a musical (I was a theater major, sue me), it's about them getting to the point where they have to communicate with their bodies because they run out of the words and it just sort of overflowing into their actions. It's not about sex the way I see it, it's about communication past words (my characters have all the emotions all the time, you may have noticed); closeness, communication, emotion, why wouldn't I want to write it?  
(also, you may have noticed this is fanfiction, so as one of my wonderful readers said "this is fanfiction, as long as it's hot who cares?")
> 
> ok, I'm done. I was just a little frustrated. (I may have made this way longer than normal just for them *sticks tongue out like an adult*)


	6. frost like lace on black boughs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally nothing but soft cuddling

Tobirama’s mind cleared slowly to the feel of Madara’s weight pressing him down (a comforting heaviness) and light, lazy kisses being feathered over his neck and shoulder; he shivered, trembling a little with aftershocks of pleasure and over sensitization. He drifted, calm in a way he wasn’t sure had ever been before blanketed as he was in Madara’s warmth, weight and overwhelming chakra; he could feel- a little- the nagging pain that had been his companion for so long whenever he didn’t circulate his charka through his tenketsuin points, but it was distant with Madara’s comforting chakra seeping down into him. After a time Madara shifted, stretching and smoothing his hands down Tobirama’s body as he lifted up, soft cock shifting where they were still connected and making Tobirama’s eyes blow wide and a thready moan punching out of him; Madara gasped and swore above him, rubbing at his flanks gently as he slipped out to Tobirama’s protesting whine. “Shhh, calm love, easy,” the deep voice murmured and chakra licked out of his palms making Tobirama melt back into the bier as the lingering pain was washed away; Madara said something from very far away, but he could bring himself to focus enough to listen, not when he had _never_ felt his good, not when his whole body was still singing and Madara was touching him.

* * *

Madara sat back on his heels and gazed at his drifting lover, letting the sharingan go reluctantly and (he, he, he had no words for what Tobirama looked like spread out like this) trailing his fingers down long legs and he shifted farther back, he didn’t want to stop touching Tobirama but he should clean them up and then check that Tobirama’s chakra; sighing he drew his hands away, only to lung forward and pressing his fingers the china pale skin again when Tobirama made a tiny agonized sound. Ok. Not going to stop touching unless he had to, only – he glanced at the low basin by the door- it must have been filled by rain water and was next to a messenger bird perch and a small table; fuck, ok, he forced himself to let go of Tobirama (oh god that sound was awful) and dart over to the water (fuck he was tired) scooping it up in a bowl laid out in the small table, carrying it back to the where Tobirama had curled up into a tight hurting ball. Madara sat next to him at his back, collecting up his clothing from where it had been under the albino and dropping all but his shirt on the floor even as he reached out an smoothed a hand down the long spine “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m here now, easy” murmured as Tobirama’s breathing eased a little but not as much as Madara would have liked, so – there had been, when Madara - he pushed chakra though his hand into Tobirama, surprised even though he had expected it when the tension flooded out of him in a rushing with a hitching breath. All right then.

He shifted closer using his shirt to wipe his own stomach with one hand and then shifting Tobirama to clean the mess between his thighs, oh, um, he shuddered, sharingan activating again to take in the image of his seed seeping out of his lover; his hands swept over Tobirama’s flanks, not fighting the need to spread him a little to get a better look before carefully wiping away the mess (Tobirama shivered, breath hitching at the gentle touch on over stimulated nerves). Clean he slipped an arm under the albino and pulled him close, wiping at the strong stomach as he did, tucking Tobirama to him and cradling his exhausted lover close; relishing the sensation and swallowing against the prickling in his eyes (he had thought - he had never – to have this, to have Tobirama _alive_ and his lover on top of that…. His breath hitched harshly). It took him a while to gather himself enough to check Tobirama’s chakra as gently as he needed to, frowning to find it a bit lower than before and worse not a single indication that it was going to rise; damn, it was what he thought then, _somehow_ Tobirama’s chakra coils were so damaged he couldn’t create it on his own. Mito’s seals must have worked as a generator by taking what little Tobirama had and spinning to through something of a centrifuge to separate the Yin and Yang and then feed new energy into it from what was charging the seals (it was an ingenious system but not a great one, the seals used sage chakra and having that running into his coils could not have been comfortable for Tobirama) before feeding it into Tobirama again; that was less than awesome as far as these things went, running the same snatches of chakra through Tobirama was not helping him recover, but… He pressed his chakra into the slender form, watching as Tobirama soaked it up and seemed to glow a little with returning warmth.

This could work, Tobirama was his Center, that meant he could probably create a link- it might not even be hard given that they had shared dreams- and _he_ could take over the place of the generator, he had enough chakra to support both of them, especially given that as far as he knew Tobirama had never had as much chakra as even Izuna and he had made up for the disparity by way of control so perfect that he never wasted even a single bit of it (which was mind blowing). Madara curled over his lover breathing him in and letting his chakra soak through his skin into Tobirama, relishing the way it eased the lines of his face and body that had gone tight with pain when Madara left him; he traced his fingers over red tattoos and along strong muscles, mapping out lines he hoped to relearn over and over and over as sleep stole over him.

* * *

Tobirama couldn’t remember ever sleeping this well or waking this slowly in his life (the only thing that came close was the times he had dared to reach out and curl in Madara’s chakra before he slept); he stretched and shivered at the ache in his tailbone, a sweet pain he cherished and relished and hoped to feel frequently. He shifted and dropped his chin on his folded hands on Madara’s strong chest, gazing at the strong face easy in slumber; it was a little funny but even though he had loved Madara for years he had somehow never realized how handsome the other man was, with strong bones and light sweeping lines, his dark brows strong and firm over deep eyes that Tobirama knew to be passionate and fierce as they were dark, he shivered at the memory of those deep, wide eyes burning red as he gazed at Tobirama like he wanted to incinerate him. Then there was his luxurious hair, that dark waist length cloud that had always caught Tobirama’s eyes (and nearly killed him once or twice when it distracted him in the middle of a fight) and made his fingers itch to twist in it, to feel if it was as soft and fluffy as it looked and maybe if he was lucky be allowed to brush it or even better _braid _it; maybe… maybe Madara would even let him do that now, it seemed like he might after everything that had passed between them. He smiled a little at the idea, it was a _wonderful_ one, and seemed possible (good things never happened to Tobirama, not like this) which was… he shifted, freeing one hand to brush the fringe out of the handsome face, licking his lips at the soft (so, _so _soft, like ash or feathers) feel of it as it slipped through his fingers, so focused that he didn’t notice dark eyes opening and gazing at him with a somewhat stupid look on his face. “Hello” Madara rasped, Tobirama jumped a little, blushing and yanking his fingers back and dropping his eyes to Madara’s chest “Hello” he murmured softly; a strong hand smoothed up his back and the other settled warm on his hip, “mmm, you know you are wonderful to wake up to” the older man purred and Tobirama felt heat suffuse his cheeks at the easy praise, forcing himself not to wriggle at the feeling.

“I-“ his words caught in his throat, he didn’t even know what he wanted to say anyway; Madara hummed again, the broad hand pressing into his sacrum and massaging there a little, reducing him to a happy puddle “There, easy darling” Madara rumbled “all is well. All is well now.” Tobirama gave up and just pressed close, stretching up the strong chest (god it was a wonderful chest) to press a kiss to the underside of Madara’s jaw, lingering there and simply breathing in the presence of the only person he had ever loved free of duty and for himself alone. Madara’s arm slipped his arm around his waist and the other pressed between his shoulder blades, warm and broad and grounding; “Why do I feel so well?” he asked absently, a little confused that he felt better now then he ever had when he woke from the seal sleep. “I’m sharing my charka with you, it’s a much better option than those seals” it took a moment for Madara’s words to sink through his happy calm and then he shoved up on his elbows, ignoring Madara’s grunt at the sudden pressure on his chest and then grumble as his hold was shifted; “You – _Madara_. You can’t do that- it- what if-“ Tobirama stammered, the Uchiha glowered at him a little and pressed his fingers to Tobirama’s mouth “Are you saying that I don’t have enough charka for both of us? Because I more than do.” and he raised his chakra in an overwhelming wave, swamping Tobirama’s super sensitive mind into a melting pool of pleasure with a faint moan.

“_Oh” _he whimpered, loosing track of time for a few minutes and coming back to himself to Madara curled over him- when had that happened?- a look torn between smugness and slight concern painted over his face “Tobirama?” the Uchiha asked and Tobirama blinked dazedly at him “hmmm?” “Are you alright?” he asked, Tobirama smiled stupidly “feels good” he slurred slightly; Madara snorted, concern fading into amusement and smugness growing stronger “Uh-hu, and do you believe me?” “Believe you?” Tobirama asked, licking at his lips and chasing the faint hint of cloves. Madara rolled his eyes and settled more comfortably next to his lover, “Yes pretty eyes, do you believe me when I say I can support us both with ease, I haven’t been even close to chakra exhaustion since I was a child.” “Oh,” Tobirama whispered, mind coming back online reluctantly (there was no way that he could deny the strength of Madara’s chakra now) “um, I, …yes. But, are you sure that- I mean, with me?” his voice fell a little at the end, worry twisting through him until strong fingers slipped under his chin and tipped it up, “There is nothing- and no one- I want more. I _love_ you and I, well, I- I makes me happy to be able to help you like this. I want nothing more than to be allowed to take care of you, it’s important to me, _extremely_ important, _please_ let me” Madara was almost begging at the end of his sentence and Tobirama searched his needy dark eyes before nodding slowly “Alright. If, you really want to.” Madara sagged against him, naked relief on his face as he feathered kisses over Tobirama’s face “_thank you_”.

* * *

Madara waited until his breath evened out again before drawing back and letting the sharingan spin to life, catching Tobirama’s eyes easily (he couldn’t believe how much the Senju trusted him) and reaching out, brushing and – ah, just as Madara had thought, there was already a connection there all he had to do was… the tether took and held, tying their chakra together (twisting together the stuff of their souls) and letting him feed Tobirama his chakra at anytime from anyplace (to feel his lover from any distance no matter what was between them). Tobirama hummed a little, eyes falling to half-mast as he felt out the link that Madara had created; the Uchiha waited with held breath, chewing his lip as he waited for the albino’s verdict on the tether, “That’s, oh Madara that’s _wonderful_” Tobirama breathed out, a brilliant smile spreading over his face, Madara had _never_ seen anything more lovely. “Good” he murmured “Good, I’m, I’m so glad you- I never want to loose you again” Tobirama threaded his fingers through Madara’s fringe “I love you Madara” he said voice low but certain; Madara swallowed hard, fuck he had cried more in the last day than he had since the death of his last brother, Tobirama tugged him back down and let him hide away in the pale neck until he had himself under control again.

“Does that mean that I can play with your hair?” Tobirama asked after awhile words seeming to just tumble out of him, his face flushed and embarrassed when he realized what he had said; Madara felt a grin sneak over his face “Do you want to?” he asked, delighting in the way the delicate flush deepened. Tobirama shifted awkwardly “I- um, I,” he stumbled over his words “do you have any idea how tempting it is just flying all over the place when your fighting?!” he burst out, sitting up sharply and folding his arms across his chest even as he turned into Madara, keeping their hips pressed together “It’s just floating behind you like a banner and looking so fluffy! It’s not _fair_ Madara, do you have any idea how _distracting_ it was?! I nearly got my head taken off when you got thrown at me and your lovely hair brushed my cheek, my _cheek_ Madara. Do you know how _embarrassing_ that was? Touka nearly strained something laughing at me over that! She _still_ laughs about it and Izuna gloated for _months_, _months_ Madara!” Madara gaped at him as Tobirama ranted, hands gesturing wildly, he winced at the mention of nearly getting killed but even the sharp twist of worry couldn’t distract him from how wonderful Tobirama looked like this; passionate and alive and brilliant as he ranted over Madara’s _hair_. Madara reached up, catching the long fingered hands in his own and pressing kisses to each “You can play with my hair any time you like, literally _any _time, in fact I would be delighted if you did darling" Tobirama’s word stuttered to a stop “Oh, well then” said the albino and immediately pushed at Madara, shifting closer in front of him and burying his hands in the Uchiha’s hair, dragging it forward over Madara’s shoulder to comb his finger through it a look of deep fascination on his face as he examined the strands.

Madara smiled indulgently at him, enjoying the gentle tugging (if he pulled firmly Madara wasn’t going to promise not to ravish his lover again) and the intent, lively look on his face; “How are you feeling?” he asked softly as Tobirama began the twist it into a loose braid, Tobirama hummed a little “Well, better than I have in a very long time. Tired, a little shaky and… well my body is still, hmm, not thrilled with me. But your chakra is…” his fingers faltered a little “I can’t really remember when I was in this little pain, it’s… disorienting.” Madara frowned, not completely happy with the answer, it implied things that he wasn’t sure how to think about (he hadn’t forgotten the strange notes in some of the writing, but he had thought, he had thought that there was _no way_ that Tobirama had practiced his healing on himself but now…), and even if he had known what to think this wasn’t the time to worry about it anyway. Madara stroked his hand down Tobirama’s side (his skin was _wonderful_) “Are you able to get back to Konoha? I’d like to get you in a proper bed and have a healer look you over.” Tobirama froze, fingers shaking as he tied off the braid with a lace stolen from Madara’s shirt and head ducked down as he refused to look the older man in the eyes “Madara…” he whispered “I don’t think… I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to go back. I, I left and asked Hashirama to tell everyone I was dead for a reason other than just my health- I mean, that was a big part of it, I might as well have been dead with this thing” he gestured at the bier “but I know. I know, I’m not well loved, and I didn’t want to ruin the peace that you have all fought so hard for.”

Madara felt ice drip down his spine and caught the fidgeting pale hands, and staring at his lover - Tobirama had _chosen_ this exile? Had thought that it was best for him to be gone even taking the chakra damage into account? Had believed that he would endanger the peace he had given _everything_ for? “Tobirama…” he whispered, throat tight and aching, why had Hashirama been willing to go alone with this? (though it did… ease his anger a little to know that it hadn’t been Hashirama forgetting his brother or sending him away but him doing what Tobirama wanted, bad choice or not) the Senju looked away “I know how Izuna thinks about me Madara, he will never agree to a peace that includes me” Madara reached out and cupped the sharp jaw, turning Tobirama back to him, “Izuna has” he thought of the look on his brother’s face after he read Tobirama’s papers angry as the thought still made him “changed somewhat. He will not refuse you the way you think, and neither will the village, not when you are every bit as much a founder of it as either of us.” The albino still looked unconvinced and Madara took a deep breath “It you won’t come back than I will stay here with you” Tobirama’s lovely red eyes flew wide “_Madara!_” “No Tobirama, there is nothing there for me without you, had you been dead in truth I probably would have left soon enough recently, _I will not leave you_.” Tears clung to white lashes and the albino tucked himself close to press a shaking kiss to Madara’s lips, then another at his jaw “Then I will go anywhere you go, even- even back to the village” Madara’s arms wrapped tightly around the slim waist and dragged him close as it was possible to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel better YumiStar


	7. white dusting over

“If we don’t go back you’ll never see what you have created, it’s not perfect- not even close- but it is going somewhere, and Hashirama and Touka need to see you; after that,” Madara cupped Tobirama’s jaw “we’ll see darling” Tobirama looked at him with those lovely eyes (not like jewels, Madara decided, no jewel had ever been so warm and _feeling_) and smiled a little, “If we go will we ever leave?” he asked and then shook his head “As long as I’m with you. I suppose it doesn’t matter to me.” Madara smiled and drew his lover into a soft kiss, slow and warm and wet, lingering together and breathing in each other’s air. It was hard to draw away from Tobirama’s alluring lips (mmmm, so wonderful), but Madara wanted to get his lover to a more comfortable bed before he let things go any farther; he could already feel the albino sagging against him again as his strength waned again and he wanted to take Tobirama home, wanted to spread his beautiful lover out over _his _bed and wrap him in heavy covers to keep him warm, wanted to feed him until the thinness faded to lean and slim, wanted to tuck Tobirama in front of him and wash the white hair, wanted to hold him close inside the heart of Madara’s strength where his lover would be safest until his strength returned, wanted Tobirama when Madara could best take care of him and that meant the village. “Can we leave?” he asked, not quite shutting out the neediness in his voice; Tobirama searched his eyes, faint lines of concern on his face, whatever he was looking for he must have found it as his faced eased into a fond look and he brushed Madara’s fringe out of his eyes “Very well, though” he sighed a little “I may need some help” Madara grinned, bright and sharp “Anything” he promised.

Tobirama was right, even with Madara feeding him charka the run back to the village was more than his body could take and they only made it halfway (and that far only because the albino was far too stubborn for his own good) before Tobirama faltered and almost fell, Madara catching him at the least minute; he cradled his lover close, “Can I carry you now? Please?” Tobirama let out a frustrated huff but didn’t argue when Madara turned and helped him onto the Uchiha’s back (there was one advantage about it Tobirama discovered, with Madara’s har braided forward over his shoulder it wasn’t suffocating Tobirama and from this position he could lean forward and burry his nose in all that fully softness). After that they were quite a bit faster, Madara more than capable of keeping up a good pace even with Tobirama on his back the long run yesterday and no food since then, oh he was going to be tired when they got to Konoha, but that could be fixed when he could hole both of them up in his protected house with his entire clan to protect them (the Uchiha might not know Tobirama but the Senju _had_ ‘died’ saving the clan heir and was under Madara’s protection), and that was the only time he was going to be able to relax anyway.

By the time they were an hour out from Konoha Tobirama was swimming in and out of consciousness, sagging over Madara’s back and threatening to fall off as the older man ran; Madara paused, breathing deep for a moment, Tobirama stirred with a faint confused sound and Madara bit his lip. “Hold on darling” he muttered, shifting carefully- and with some difficulty- until he could sit with Tobirama tucked close across his lap and then slowly pressing chakra into the younger man fighting back a pleased purr when Tobirama let out a small sound of warm comfort- that reaction to his chakra was never going to get old- and turned closer to the Uchiha; he sighed, worried about the Senju and increasingly concerned about his health. Madara was filling the Senju with chakra but that didn’t help with damage to his body that didn’t have anything to do with his chakra coils, things like malnourishment and exhaustion and old damage from wounds from battles in the past; as far as he could tell the seal bier held him in something like stasis that didn’t do enough it seemed. He shook himself and stood slowly, shifting Tobirama in his hold to until he was tucked into Madara’s chest where even if he fully slid out of consciousness he would be safe and close; he ran on, feeling Konoha closer and closer and flaring his chakra in a way that he knew Mito would recognize.

As he had expected there was a party waiting for them just inside the gates in addition to the gate watchers (Hashirama, Mito, Touka, and even Izuna hovering back a little) and the second he stepped in with Tobirama there was a hush before Hashirama made a tight broken sound and stepped forward as Madara stopped, staggering a little he fell to his knees at Madara’s feet picking up Tobirama’s pale hand with shaking fingers; he covered his brother’s pulse and then breathed out a shattered breath, pressing long finger to his forehead and crying silently, the way Madara had never seen before – silently, empty and still and utterly unlike himself. (Izuna stared at them, shocked and… _moved_ to see the picture they made; his proud brother with his hair braided forward, dressed in his robes without armor or gunbai and with Tobirama- pale and glowing in white with no armaments- tucked close, moonlight head resting against his jaw in a trusting repose, the two of them looked like an illustration for a story of gods, like the way clouds curled around the volcanoes sometimes. And then with Hashirama kneeling at their feet, face pressed to his silent brother’s pale hand, his proud back bent and long hair pooling at his knees as he wept silently before those he had failed… it was and image Izuna was never going to forget, sharingan or not) (it was an image that moved any that saw it, and one that would be painted later by a gifted Nara- the sight off the God of shinobi bowing before the love of his brother and the Lord of Fire, the regal Lady Uzumaki with her hand pressed to her mouth and fierce Touka grinning like she had tasted blood, with the younger Uchiha watching with a face write with sorrow and joy. It would be one of the most famous paintings ever and displayed in the tower in later years, name written below it in a firm slightly slanting handwriting “_The will of fire is born in the forge of grief”_)

“Hashirama” said Madara softly “I need to get him home; he needs care and attention.” Hashirama nodded, releasing his brother’s hand only after pressing his lips to the pulse once in a firm attempt to feel the soft heartbeat; he stood, brushing his fingers through Tobirama’s hair and looking Madara in the eyes with deep ach in his “_Thank you_” he rasped. Madara shrugged a little, pressing his lips to the pale temple “I didn’t do it for you” Hashirama smiled at him, a little of his normal brightness peeping through “I know, still, thank you” Madara nodded jerkily, striding past the Senju and heading towards the Uchiha district, catching Mito’s eye as he passed “Get a healer please” to his surprise she nodded and turned away without question. Izuna darted ahead to make sure that Madara’s way was clear, a good thing too given the amount of people that froze at the sight of Madara and his precious burden or recoiled when they recognized the ‘white Demon’ (Izuna snarled so fiercely at one Amatchi that stepped forward with and ugly look on her face that she flinched back from him); Madara forced all thought about others out of his mind on the walk to keep his emotions even and easy on Tobirama’s oversensitive senses, letting Touka and (reluctantly) Izuna and Hashirama make sure that they were safe as they walked.

He hardly noticed when they entered his clan compound except for a slight loosening of his shoulders but stepping through the door to the heavily reinforced and protected main house (peace or no the learned paranoia of war time didn’t allow any of them to sleep in unprotected homes) was a relief great enough that it made him sag with exhaustion; he finally had Tobirama someplace _safe_. “Izuna-“ Madara started “I’ll go get things settled in the clan, Hashirama go find food and explain what’s going on to me” said Izuna promptly, Madara blew out a grateful breath; he wanted to get Tobirama in a bath but it would have to wait he thought as he settled his lover in his own bed, sending Touka a grateful look when she helped tuck Tobirama in one of Madara’s sleeping yukata without commenting on the marks littered over her cousin’s pale skin (truthfully Touka was just glad to see her cousin so _clearly_ claimed, it would be hard for him to forget how much Madara wanted him when he was _covered_ in love bites). “Get in there with him then” said Touka firmly when Madara hesitated a little “you’re clearly exhausted too, just fucking cuddle him” Madara slumped with relief- the idea of not touching Tobirama, even for a moment, was… _painful_\- and shrugged out of his clothing and into another yukata (there was another pained worried sound when there fingers parted and Madara hurried to get close again) before crawling into the bed next to the Senju, who immediately twisted into Madara and tucked himself in close.

(Touka forced herself not too coo, fuck, she had thought that Madara was cute on his own, seeing him like this with Tobirama clinging to him and the two of them absolutely _stunning_ together- they did make a shockingly pretty picture with their coloring and builds- was like having that cuteness doubled far, _far_ too much. She wanted to pat them on their heads and feed them cookies and given them fluffy blankets. Damn it was a good thing that she was far too confident in her own ability to terrify people to be concerned by the need to coo over them.)

Madara coaxed Tobirama to lie on the older man’s chest, his breathing easing when he was in more contact even with Madara propped up a little, “There now” he murmured into white hair (he trusted Touka, trusted her not to say anything or care much) “you don’t have to move for a while now darling, we’re safe here.” Tobirama blew out a soft breath, relaxing at the calmness in the Uchiha’s voice. Madara was startled out of his tight focus on the white head leaning trustingly on him by Touka’s voice, softer than he had ever heard before “Hey, you alright? No, not Tobi, clearly you’re going to take care of him but until he’s well enough to do the same for you someone needs to. So, are _you_ ok?” the Uchiha licked his lips, far more touched than he had ever expected by the simple act of someone looking out for him, it was… “I- I will be. As soon as he’s healthy again. Its just… I thought he was dead and he’s not and he’s my Center and so I can give him chakra and – but, Touka he’s- his so _sick_.” The Senju sighed and walked around the bed, throwing herself down next to him and tugging him into her side for a rough hug. “Yeah, not going to lie and tell you it’s all going to be ok, but I think there’s a better chance now for things to come out well then there ever has been before.” Madara closed his eyes, breathing out on a careful count and letting the strong woman take the weight of both him and Tobirama; relishing the feeling of leaning on someone else and letting them carry him.


	8. whisper soft wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short this time, but I'm exhausted and it wanted to have a chapter break here so *shrug*

Hashirama paused at the doorway pressing his fingers to his lips trying to force down the lump in his throat; it was almost perfect, if Mito was here this would be everyone that mattered most to him happy and together. He had _never_ seen Madara this relaxed, relaxed enough to fall asleep on another person (on Touka!) and even then still curled around Tobirama as close as they could get with the pale head tucked under his chin and the albino’s fingers knotted in Madara’s clothing, “Hashi, stop standing there and staring and get in here. Madara hasn’t eaten since at least yesterday, possibly the day before. Oi, Uchiha wake up, time to eat.” Madara grumbled, pressing closer to Tobirama who whined a little sulkily before settling as Madara rubbed a hand down his back. The Uchiha sat up looking tired and worn, took one glance at Hashirama and a smirking Touka and shoved the later out of the bed with a grumpy look as he sat up “You shouldn’t have let me fall asleep” he muttered, ducking his head to hide his embarrassment at being caught sleeping behind his hair – a move that didn’t work half as well with most of it still braided. Touka cackled from her place on the floor, bouncing back up to her feet and planting her knuckles in Madara’s messy hair “You needed to sleep fireball” Madara’s eyes went huge and he gave an appalled squawk at the nickname, flailing as he tried to push himself up to whack at her; Hashirama was almost falling over against the door laughing less form hilarity- though it was funny- and more from seeing people that he had been _so aware_ was slipping away from him happy and _here_, he had never thought that he would have the chance to have this, not since his brother (_“if you love me”_) had been wounded and flinched from Hashirama’s touch.

Tobirama’s whimper- halfway between sulky and hurt- cut through the room like Mito’s voice in a conference room and Madara immediately abandoned his flailing to turn to the albino and lean over him soothing him with soft words Hashirama couldn’t hear and careful hands over his head and back and. ah. Touka was right as usual, they were so clearly comfortable together, in a way that only made sense if they had been spending time together for longer than one night. Dream sharing, how Tobirama. Hashirama took a deep breath, everything just- it _ached_ (he was so _happy, _happy they were all in the same place, happy Tobirama wasn’t dying anymore, happy to see Madara without the pitch of heartache on his face, but…) and it was hard for him to set that aside and focus on the moment (how did Tobirama do it?) far to used to just letting all of his emotions bubble over and fill the room; but now wasn’t the time, so – he took a deep breath before he stepped into the room “I’ve got some food!” he caroled (quietly, he didn’t want to disturb Tobira if he could avoid it) “And Mito is just waiting for Ayme to be done with her surgery- Ayme’s the healer that saw to Tobira after – I mean, after.” He faltered but forced himself to keep going even under Madara’s wary watchful eyes “so she has the best understanding of his situation and it would be better not to have to bring someone new in, I don’t thing Toibra would like it anyway. She’ll be done soon, you only slept for about twenty minutes.” Hashirama forced his mouth shut, he wanted to keep rambling and just keep talking under Madara’s dark eyes until <strike>his friend</strike> the Uchiha looked away, but he knew Madara; the Uchiha wasn’t going to look away until he had seen what he wanted.

Madara kept looking at him, fingers combing through Tobirama’s hair where the younger man’s head rested against his hip (they were so tangled together that it was a little confusing to try and figure out what was where other than their heads, especially with the blankets); Hashirama fidgeted- trying not to fuss or drop anything- and bit his lip, trying to figure out what to say, that had always been his problem with Tobirama though hadn’t it? The only time Hashirama could find words was when he didn’t need them, and they just bubbled off of him. “Oh just fucking come in and stop hovering. I’m damn hungry.” Madara grumbled, looking away from Hashirama even as his large hand cupped the back of Tobirama’s head and neck protectively; Hashirama sagged gratefully and deposited the tray next to Madara, sending a glance at the other man before leaning over his little brother and pressing a kiss to the cool brow. Tobirama stirred a little, shifting closer into Madara as his eyes silted open a little, clearly still mostly asleep “’shi?” he slurred; Hashirama swallowed hard, his eyes prickling again “Hey little brother, just relax ok? We’ll take care of everything.” “’dara?” “He’s right here with you and completely fine, his mouth’s just full. Touka’s here too and Mito’ll be back soon, so everyone’s ok, you just sleep.” Hashirama soothed, “k ‘shi. ‘ove you ‘dara” the younger man mumbled before dropping into unconsciousness again. Madara made a tight little noise, his hand tightening again (Touka smirked, she knew that Madara’s fingers were pressed to his pulse and one of the dark love bites there. _She_ knew what he was reminding Tobirama of even if Hashirama had no idea, which was probably not a bad thing).

Hashirama sat back, careful to give the other two men on the bed room, “I can’t – you really can support him with your charka?” he asked Madara, back pedaling at the affronted look on the dark haired man’s face “_Not_ – I mean, I know you have _enough_ chakra, I’ve just never heard of anything that lets anyone share chakra permanently and you two seem to be doing that. It’s just confusing…” he trailed off when Madara sighed and rolled his eyes, apparently forgiving Hashirama but he didn’t have time to answer before there was a knock on the door frame and Mito, Ayme and Izuna stepped into the room. The healer nodded at all of them and stepped over to the bed, shooing Hashirama off and out of the way as she did so (she was different with him these last two years _“<strike>if you love me</strike>”_); she took one look at the fierce look in Madara’s eyes and didn’t even begin to suggest that he move as she drew up her chakra and swept her hands over Tobirama. “Explain to me about this chakra sharing? Mito-sama told me about the seal construct she used on the way here.” Ayme said, Madara nodded and launched into an explanation of Uchiha Centers and chakra tethers (the healer’s eyes got a little big as she swept them down the younger Senju- though he might take a new name soon- and she shot a glance at Madara-sama through her lashes, she was guessing he would rather she not bring up the more… discretionary wounds on Tobirama – she was honestly a little impressed anyway, the albino would be feeling his lover’s touch for _days_)

* * *

Madara watched through half-lidded eyes as Hashirama, Mito, and Ayme talked; Touka was still standing at the window quite as she had been since Madara started explaining what had happened and Izuna was sitting against the door frame staring at his fingers as he twisted them together. Madara felt a little bad for his little brother (not very much, but a little), Ayme’s explanation of why Tobirama had been in such bad shape to begin with had been… rough to listen to even when Madara had already had his suspicions; for Izuna, who had probably never had to even consider changing his mind about anything much less his oldest rival, it was a painful shock. Hashirama’s raised voice made Tobirama stir where he was cuddled up into Madara’s chest and the Uchiha roused himself “Out, leave food for us and scat, I want to sleep, and you have to sort out how to tell the village that Tobirama’s alive.” He groused, nuzzling into white hair, he really didn’t mind leaving this shit to them, what Tobirama needed according to the healer was rest and food; he just needed care and time (and chakra) and there was very little Madara wanted more than to give it to him (it was like he was a _perfect_ fit for Madara who had always needed to be able to take care of those he loved - he knew that Tobirama was a more than capable shinobi and was looking forward to having the albino standing at his back, but if he was just allowed to take care of his lover at home, if just allowed to tend to Tobirama he would be blissful).

He dozed, rousing a little after the room emptied and he could hear Touka and Izuna talking at the door distantly but only roused when the female Senju brought in a large tray with folding legs at just the right height for the low bed, “Here” she mumbled voice low and quiet “for when you have the energy, either Izuna or I’ll check in every few hours. I’m guessing from what I’ve seen that you and snowflake don’t want to get very far apart.” He smiled a little, grateful for the water the woman handed him but still struggling to stay awake; Touka rolled her eyes, “ Go to sleep you silly boy, everything will still be here when you wake up” and Madara…. actually believed her.


	9. the silence of snow is rest

Tobirama shifted as sleep rolled back slowly like the receding tide shivering at the feel of strong muscles spread out under him, he was so _warm_ and wrapped up in Madara’s chakra as he was he had never let more content; well, except, he wanted a bath, he missed feeling clean the way only a good bath could provide. There was a shift at the door and he looked over just as Touka slipped in the room; she hesitated for a minute when she saw his eyes open “_Tobi_” she whispered breathlessly. He smiled at her sleepy “Hello cousin” he rasped and Madara shifted under him, smoothing his hand down Tobirama’s back in the caress that was quickly becoming his favorite as the Uchiha woke up, “It’s good to see you awake snowflake” Touka said in a suspiciously wet voice and Tobirama scowled slightly at the nickname and she rolled her eyes coming over to the bed and ruffling his hair affectionately, “Up you get, if I know you at all what you really want is a chance to get _clean_ and fireball here has a hell of a bathing setup” Madara snapped at her hand when it looked like she might try to ruffle his hair as well and then flailed under Tobirama at the nickname, appearing to ignore the way the albino was burying his head in Madara’s chest as his shoulders shook with laughter (Madara relished the feeling and knowledge that he was causing this even if it was at his expense and Touka wanted to cry, she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her little cousin laugh).

Tobirama was delighted when they finally made it into the bathroom and he discovered that it was indeed a _very_ impressive setup with a large deep slightly sunken bath and a truly impressive shower set up “How did you get something this nice?” he asked, more than a little surprised; Madara slipped up behind him and wrapped loving arms around his lover pressing a warm kiss to one pale cheek, “Your plumbing system is very impressive and heating it is easy for an Uchiha” Tobirama started and twisted to look at Madara, “You used my plans?” he asked. Madara frowned, “We used most of your plans pretty eyes, you are every bit as much a founder of Konoha as Hashirama and I” he said firmly “Oh” Tobirama whispered looking slightly shocked; Madara sighed “Come on, time to get clean” he said, they could address Tobirama’s self-esteem later, _after_ they were clean (Madara was so spoiled now, far to used to the village and all it’s amazing innovations). Tobirama smiled with a look of deep relief as he started striping with alacrity making Madara- who had been going to strip himself- stall where he stood, oh, oh my, so _pretty_, how did Madara forget that? (seeing that _lovely_ shape arch under him, seeing those wonderful eyes glazed and dazed with the pleasure _Madara_ was giving him) “Madara?” Tobirama asked startling him out of his daze and leaving the Uchiha blinking at the albino blankly, “Um. I. Um” Madara stuttered; Tobirama frowned and turned fully to Madara “What-?” but the Uchiha’s brain was still spinning desperately “_So pretty_” he breathed, stunned into idiocy. And then it got _worse_ when the albino flushed that lovely sweeping pink tint that made Madara’s mouth water (no, really, _literally_), “Oh” he muttered, looking away awkwardly and that – that wouldn’t do at all; Madara stepped forward and cupped his cheek, pulling Tobirama back to look at him “You’re _stunning_” he whispered before tugging him into a lingering kiss.

“Bath” Tobirama gasped when he pulled back, licking his lips and clearly struggling to collect himself; Madara nodded back somewhat stupidly, “Bath” he agreed dazedly before giving himself as good shake, “shower first” he added and Tobirama _smiled_ at him (Madara’s heart did a funny twisting skipping thing that Madara decided to ignore). The shower was so distracting that it took everything Madara had to keep his hands to himself- though delightfully Tobirama seemed to be having the same problem if the way his eyes lingered was anything to go by- but he persevered because the albino was so clearly delighted to stand under the running water and relish the feeling of it even as he started flagging as his limited energy waned; Madara coaxed his lover out of the water only with promises of a good soak (where Madara could keep him from falling or drowning if his energy gave out) and together they settled into the hot water pressed together like they had never been apart. In Madara’s opinion it was the best part of anything _ever_ to sit with Tobirama pressed against his chest and humming in pleasure at the feel of his element and wriggling a little against Madara; which, um, “If you keep doing that things are going to get interesting” he groaned in Tobirama’s ear, the albino paused for a moment and then gave a very intentional twist against Madara punching deep moan out of the older man.

Madara ran his hands down long pale muscled thighs delighting in the deep shiver that got him and coaxing the long legs to rest on either side of his as Tobirama all but sat in his lap- it would allow him to keep enough control the younger man to keep him from slipping under, and if it let him have Tobirama as his mercy then that was just a side effect- rocking into the _fantastic_ ass pressed against him; Tobirama moaned at the feeling, arching into Madara with another delightful shiver and wrapping long fingers around the older man’s wrists in a loose hold. “_Ma-dara_” he gasped and the Uchiha panted, biting at one of the marks he had left littered and whimpering a little at the small mewl it got him from his lover, “God you’re beautiful” Madara groaned, breath almost taken away at the sight of Tobirama splayed against him and arching into the hands Madara was smoothing over his stomach and hips. Tobirama rocked back, releasing one of Madara’s hands to reach back and twist his fingers into the Uchiha’s long wet hair pooled on the edge of the bath “I swear- _ah_\- if you don’t do som-omething about this I will kill you” he hissed as Madara teased him. The older man smiled and bit gently over his pulse, “And what would you like me to do pretty eyes?” he asked roughly, trying to ignore the heat flashing through him every time Tobirama shifted his hips; “I would _like _to have you in me again” the albino rasped and Madara’s brain melted out of his ears.

“Oh” he whimpered, “oh I can- _hng_\- do that _again_\- get on board with that plan” Tobirama laughed breathlessly, arching against him and reaching for the oil he had left on the edge of the bath without Madara noticing; the Uchiha blinked at it, momentarily stalling at the thought that Tobirama had _intended_ to get Madara’s attention and planed for it (always planning his lover), before jumping into action as Tobirama rolled his hips. It was a relief to slip into his lover again, biting down on Tobirama’s neck to stifle his shout as the albino let out a whimpering keen; pressing into the sensation of Madara’s cock like there was nothing he wanted more and shivering as Madara rolled his nipples between his fingers, “_Madara_” he gasped as the Uchiha panted with the shallow motion. Like this there was no deep thrusts but it seemed more important to Tobirama to be as close as possible and from here Madara had a _stunning_ view down the pale shape to the pretty cock (he _still_ wanted to taste it) and over the many marks Madara had left scattered over pale skin; it was slow and easy and _wonderful_, and Madara had never had sex like this, never made love to someone that he wanted to keep and hold and cherish for as long as he could. It was only Tobirama’s gasping responses to his praise and pleas and desperate questions (_“be mine, stay mine, never leave me_”) that made him realize he was saying them, but given that the answer was _“yes!”_ to every question he didn’t care.

Tobirama drifted, lulled into a peaceful doze wrapped in Madara’s arms and his element where he had always felt most safe and relishing the sweet ache in his spine and the faint buzzing of his skin with leftover pleasure. He whined and pouted tiredly when Madara shifted and slid out of him (he hated the empty feeling) but turned into the nuzzling kiss anyway and let the older man help him out of the bath- well, carry him really, Tobirama could honestly say he had never been this tired- and into another of Madara’s robes to sleep in “Come on darling, you need to eat something before you go back to sleep” he coaxed and Tobirama pouted harder (he had no idea that he was _destroying_ Madara’s brain with that adorable expression), he wanted to go to sleep again with Madara and the thought of eating _was not_ compelling in the slightest, but - he sighed, he knew better than to push this, he really did need to eat if he wanted to get better and better to choke down something now than to have someone else force him to eat later. Also, he had promised Madara that he would let the Uchiha take care of him and he never broke his promises. (Madara all but _purred_ in satisfaction when he was allowed to tend to Tobirama, knowing he was taking care of the person he loved was the _best _feeling)

* * *

Izuna watched the council as they fussed, torn between glee at making the people that made his brother miserable on a regular basis this upset and simmering anger that they would so easily discount Tobirama even after Hashirama had laid out exactly how much Tobirama had contributed to the village (it was a little ridiculous really, he had had no idea- even after reading the plans Tobirama had left- that the albino was involved in _this_ much of the work); it wasn’t _right _that they should feel so safe just writing Tobirama off because of things he had no control over and because of Izuna’s stupid fucking mistake. He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to force down that snarl of emotion and keep his head calm; he was _trying _to be better for his brother’s sake, but it was _hard_ when people were being stupid (and the gathered clan heads were being _stupid_). The Sarutobi clan head shifted self-importantly “I fail to see why we should care Hokage-_sama_, your brother is well known as a dangerous man. It seems fair that we should request that he be _interviewed_ by the Yamanaka to ensure that he has not lingering resentment about the other clans, the Uchiha in particular will agree with me I’m sure.” And yeah, ok, Izuna was _done_; he snorted loudly, “I think you’ll find that given that I’m aware of how much Tobirama contributed to this village I have absolutely no problem welcoming him back home. As to the clans thoughts on the matter, I think my brother’s fiancé will be as cherished by the clan as he is by everyone that knows him.” the silence was overwhelming and _delightful_ (ok, so Izuna probably shouldn’t have said the fiancé thing, but it wasn’t like Madara had anything other than the rest of their lives on his mind; as soon as he got a chance Izuna was sure he would be looking for a ring and fan).

“Uchiha-sama and the Senju?” the Sarutobi choked out, his eyes huge and shocked; Izuna smirked gleefully “Mhm, they are blissfully happy now that they can be together, it’s a little obnoxious.” Sarutobi winced and sank in his seat, the Nara next to him smirked a little “Let me be the first to offer my congratulations then” they said smoothly, their thin lips pulled up in a pleased smug look. Izuna smirked right back and nodded to them, “Thank you Nara-sama, I will pass that along to my brother” the Nara nodded and the Hyuuga next to them stiffly offered his congratulations as well, slowly followed by the other clan heads non, of which wanted too run the risk of offending Madara. When the Sarutobi was the last one left he shifted uncomfortably, looking around for back up before sagging in his seat, “I’m suppose if Madara-sama vouches for him that’s enough” he said sullenly “congratulations.” He muttered under his breath. Izuna frowned, it wasn’t good enough in his opinion and Hashirama looked like he agreed but Mito smiled cold cat smile “Thank you Sarutobi-sama, I’m sure my brother will pleased to hear that” she purred and the man paled, apparently remembering abruptly that Tobirama was related to all of the most powerful shinobi in the village one way or another, all of whom had a clear fondness for the albino and had no intention of allowing him to be pushed around or hurt in anyway. Mito looked around at the gathered clan members “If there’s nothing else?” she asked in her ‘hime’ voice (Izuna _always_ cringed at that tone, it was terrifying) and the others shook their heads hurriedly before moving towards the door en masse; well except for a few that stopped by Hashirama or Izuna to congratulate them on their brothers return and relationship respectively.

As soon as they were gone Hashirama turned to him “_Fiancé?!” _ he yelped, Izuna shrugged “Come on, you know Madara, if you think he has anything else in mind than a ring you’re a fool. And anyway their expressions were _wonderful_ weren’t they?” Mito sighed- though Izuna thought there might be a bit of a laugh in there as well- and shook her head, either way you should go tell him before word gets back to him without you, I suspect he would like a chance to ask _properly_” oh, that, that was a good point really wasn’t it. Um, uh-oh. Izuna tore out of the tower at high speeds, he knew how fast rumors moved over the village and he would be lucky if he got to Madara before the rumor did and his brother’s temper over this might be _impressive_ even if he was planning to ask Tobirama at some point.

Izuna ran through the village trying not to giggle with glee at the thought of his brother’s shouting and the _wonderful_ looks it would bring from the clan, he darted through a pair of Hyuuga that shouted at his receding back and laughing Inuzuka chased him for a few blocks before he exploded into his clan’s compound, bounding over his startled kin and exploding into the main house at a run; he dashed up the stairs- barely missing Touka- and bounced against the doorway of this brother’s room, grinning as Madara started swearing and Tobirama turned to him with a sleepy expression (he was so _cute_, Izuna was pretty sure that if he had known this before he wouldn’t have hated the other man half as long) “Izuna?” he mumbled as Madara burrowed into his back still swearing at his little brother and Izuna – suddenly everything seemed to slow down, time moving like sunlight creeping over the trees as he took in _everything_. The laughing and yelling and running and Madara swearing and seeing an enemy look at him with tired eyes, and Izuna **understood**, for the first time ever he understood what Madara had wanted for so long and why his brother had fought so hard for it; it was still hard for Izuna and not how he was made but – if this was the reward he was willing to try and make him and Konoha fit together, to try and find his way here the way his brother wanted, it was worth it. “Izuna?” Tobirama asked in his sleepy voice “is something wrong?” and Izuna smirked “Nope! Nothing at all.” (he was right, Madara’s shouting when Izuna explained was wonderful, but the look on his face when Tobirama said yes to his bungled question was even better.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be an Omake on this about the asshole but I'm not sure yet, so it's completed for now

**Author's Note:**

> Emilx311 sparked this one "Soooooo another idea (which you probably don't need but I thought of it and needed to share) Tobirama feels like he's the only reason Izuna is refusing peace so he packs up his experiments and leaves giving all his treaty and village notes to Mito first. And so peace happens and they're building a village and Madara sees the notes and falls in love with the absent Tobirama who everyone is claiming died of the wound Izuna gave him (but blood loss so it was actually not that bad) and he's going crazy only to somehow find out Tobi is alive. Or Tobirama think he might have killed Izuna and even if he didn’t Izuna is scared shitless of him so he should just leave and make things better, he makes Hashirama promise not to tell anyone about him being alive."


End file.
